Finding Courage
by Chereche
Summary: Kurt must dig deep within himself to find the courage he needs to overcome his fears in order to assist his boyfriend. Sequel to "Keeping Faith". It really should be read first for clarity.
1. Chapter 1

It had only been a few weeks since Kurt had finally given in to all the requests – both subtle and not so subtle – and had graced the Senior Common Rooms the Warblers used for practice with his presence. Nevertheless, despite the short time span, Kurt had quickly grown to love the place. It was one of the areas that the school, once it had taken over the manor and converted it for educational purposes, had largely left the same. It still retained a rustic air that somehow blended in seamlessly with the hints of modernity that graced it. Kurt was particularly enamoured with the décor, and, while the twenty odd teenagers talked, laughed, sang and (mostly) good naturedly quibbled with each other, he would use the opportunity to look about the room critically, both admiring what had been done and envisioning the changes that could be made to further enhance the place.

If it wasn't for the fact that, months ago, the activities in this room would have been enough to send him into an emotional tail-spin, Kurt would have regretted the time he wasted being away from this room's presence. But now, he was more than content to fully explore and discern the little secrets about the area that made it one of his boyfriend's favourite areas in the school. Speaking of which…

Tearing his eyes away from the cobblestones lining the fireplace, Kurt quickly sort out, and located his boyfriend amidst the throng of boys moving about haphazardly as they worked out the intricacies of a routine. Blaine was mid-laugh at something Jeff was doing, and, looking at the rather chicken-ish dance the blonde was doing, a smile tugged at Kurt's lips. It was the start of October, and so there was just a little under a month for Sectionals, which somehow, was not Thanksgiving weekend this year. He still found it a little amazing that, as soon as the date had come out, preparation for the Warblers had begun. It actually made Kurt wonder why it is that Mr. Shue neglected to tell them these things more than a week in advance. But then again, he was probably well aware of the fact that their team would implode way before that date.

Shaking his head in fond remembrance (and wow at the fact that those memories no longer brought more than a little twinge to him now), Kurt turned his attention to where David and Wes were, seated at the council table with a laptop between them. How they could start working on choreography without the hint of what their song selection would be was also beyond him, but, as much as it seemed nonsensical, the Warblers seemed to have a schedule that just worked for them, and he was glad for it.

"Kurt?"

The voice was gently engaging, the perfect way to get his attention without startling him. All the Warblers used that tone with him, after that first day when he had gotten a bit of a fright when Trent had approached him when he mind had been adrift. His reaction had been more than a bit embarrassing, but their collective concern for him had been touching. The care that they showed him even now was the reason that he ever so often got Carole to assist him in baking them goodies, just because he could.

"Yeah?" he replied, turning so that he could look at Andrew, one of Blaine's fellow seniors.

"You okay?" the redhead asked, dropping down onto the couch behind him, a bottle of water in his hands. "We really aren't doing much today. Not bored out of your mind?"

"I'm not," Kurt assured him. "I'm actually still processing how hard you guys work. My old team…we'd probably be running down the corridors now singing about whatever issue was affecting us this week."

Andrew chuckled at that. "It must be so different for you, huh?"

"A good difference I think," he agreed. "Taking a break?"

"Umhmm," he responded, taking a swing of his water. "I had an asthma attack last night, so I got to take it a bit easier today. Figured I'd keep our honorary Warbler's company since Blaine is busy."

"You're too nice to me," Kurt told him with a small laugh, glad that, as always for the genuinely kindness these teenagers afforded him.

Rehearsals were just about done now. As far as he knew, there was no real finalisation of any plans, but, something actually resembling a routine seemed to have been formulated regardless. Kurt took the time to memorise the patterns of their steps. He was no Mike Chang or Brittany S Pierce, but he was certain that he had learnt enough from his brief tenure as a Cheerio to probably come up with a couple of songs that could work with the steps they had already pulled together. Andrew had left him after a few more minutes of conversation, something that Kurt actually became quickly grateful for when, mid-conversation, what felt like a searing bolt of lightning ran through his arm – a pain that had dulled into a throbbing that he could (barely) deal with. Andrew had not noticed thankfully, mistaking his pained gasp for a surprised exclamation when, in an attempt at a flip, a freshman Warbler had landed just a few inches away from them, pride more than anything else hurt.

Even now, Kurt was struggling to keep his expression fixed or at least neutral. It was not the first time he had experienced it; it was a phenomenon that quickly made itself known a few weeks after that first day when Carole had actually broken a glass when she had noticed that the slight tremor she had been feeling was not from Kurt jostling his foot, but rather from his arm. Since then, he had had to endure a slew of tests and experiments that all said the same thing. His nerves were slowly but surely reconnecting themselves with the downside that at times he would experience a lot of pain as the various sectors tried to fix and reorient themselves. He was determined to make it through the rest of rehearsal and until Finn got him at least without causing any concern though. No one, so far, outside of his family had dealt with him in these moments, and he did not really want to draw any unwanted attention to it.

But, more than that, he really didn't want to worry Blaine who had a major test coming up first thing in the morning, and, having had a taste of how senior classes could be given he had (successfully) completed Senior French, he didn't want, in any way, to inconvenience him. And he knew now, from experience, that Blaine would willingly drop it all for him, but that was not what he wanted right now.

Thankfully, everyone was pretty much still used to the mood swings he could go through within the span of a few minutes, and so no one was particularly perturbed when he only offered them small nods or the quick rather strained word as they left, until only Blaine was left, who even now, was claiming the spot beside him.

"Hi you," he greeted, his voice soft and warmed and laced with affection.

Without even giving him a chance to respond, Blaine closed the space between them to gently cup Kurt's face with one hand. Even with his discomfort, Kurt felt his eyes droop as he learnt into it, feeling, rather than seeing Blaine's approach before his lips pressed against his skin tenderly.

"H-hi," Kurt answered shakily, pain battling the affection he felt as Blaine bumped their heads together briefly before pulling back.

"What's wrong?"

There really was no fooling Blaine, Kurt thought ruefully, even as he bought himself a few seconds by shifting so that he could rest his head against Blaine's shoulder, breathing in deeply the scent of his cologne.

"I'm okay," he said, after a moment, turning so that his cheek was now pressed against the blazer. He was grateful that the angle hid his face for at that moment his arm gave a particularly painful throb that brought a grimace to his face. "I'm just tired."

Blaine's arms slowly crept around him, and Kurt allowed himself to be tugged in closer so that the older teenager could start a soothing caress against his back.

"Well it's been a long day," he responded, "and I know how much Physics class drains you. Did you get a lot of homework for tomorrow?"

Always so concerned, Kurt acknowledged, even as he shook his head, knowing that Blaine would feel the movement. "Just a few math problems."

"Then you can sleep early tonight to compensate? The week ends tomorrow for you anyway."

It did. While, thankfully Kurt's appointment with his psychologist had decreased to once weekly (save for the occasional episodes that required extra visits) those times had been replaced with physical therapy that so far was showing painfully little progress, much to Kurt's consternation.

"I will," he promised. His voice cracked mid-word though as the pain made itself be known once again.

"Kurt?" Blaine asked, his tone taking on a worried edge.

The brunette knew that he had discerned the emotion, felt the way his hands hesitated against his skin before, gently he pushed him back so that he could examine his face.

"Poppet," Blaine inquired carefully after a moment. "Are you being truthful with me? You don't look okay…"

It was the nickname that got him every time and Kurt knew that Blaine often used it to his advantage, drawing from him slowly but surely the words and feelings Kurt would otherwise prefer to keep hidden.

"My arm hurts," he whispered, his gaze lowered.

Blaine's hand moved to the said arm immediately, gently grasping and rubbing along it in a gesture that Kurt still could not really feel, but so badly wanted to. The symbolism behind it warmed him though.

"Poppet, why didn't you say something?"

"It's not that bad," Kurt hedged, although he knew immediately that he failed to be believable given the incredulous look Blaine gave him.

"You're pale and sweating."

"I didn't want to worry anyone."

"Kurt-" Blaine began, before breaking off with a sigh. "You have your medication bag right? Let's get a painkiller in you first of all."

"Blaine no," he protested, even as Blaine pulled away and stood, heading to where Kurt had left his bag upon his arrival. "I don't want it. It'll make me drowsy."

"Then it's a good thing you didn't drive yourself here today. You can always sleep on the way home poppet."

"But-"

"I don't want you in pain, Kurt. And I'm sure you don't want to be in pain."

He was right, but that did not make Kurt any happier with that fact currently. Instead he remained silent, watching as Blaine opened his bag, found his pouch, selected the correct tablet with an ease that told him that he and Finn had had prior discussion about this before closing the bag. He pulled Kurt's water bottle out of his side pocket before returning to him with both items.

Their eyes met for a long, speaking second when Blaine returned, standing in front of him in a way that had Kurt looking back to meet his hazel gaze. Kurt knew that there was a stubborn lilt to his face if Blaine's reaction was anything to go by. His eyes hardened slightly before he held out the items to him.

"Here you go," he said firmly, offering it to him.

Kurt eyed the tiny, rather inconspicuous pain with malice, stubbornness battling the need for relief as the pain, as if sensing the potential for quelling, increased its viciousness. He held out thought for a few seconds more, long enough for Blaine to fix him with a rather stern look, before he relented, taking the tablet with a grudging expression.

Blaine did not allow his face to relax until Kurt drained the remainder of his water. The summer had taught him a lot about his boyfriend. Kurt despised his medication – all of them. He did not like the effects they had on him. During one particularly honest moment he had told Blaine why. He did not like having countless chemicals pumping through his body, dictating whether he slept or stayed awake, felt emotions coursing through him or otherwise was just numb to it all. He despised having even more of his autonomy stripped away from him.

And Blaine understood; he fully sympathised with him. However, when the choice was between a boyfriend who was pain free but drowsy, or a pensive, pained boyfriend who would quickly succumbed to what looked like a terrible amount of discomfort, the choice was simple. Kurt could look at him like a kicked puppy all he wanted; Blaine knew his actions were right. It was well worth the two or three days Blaine knew Kurt would ignore him for.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine wasn't too surprised when that night it was Finn, not Kurt who called him. The quarterback had had to deal with a decidedly groggy and churlish Kurt that afternoon. By the time Finn had arrived, Kurt had made it abundantly clear to Blaine that he thought that he was the worst person on the planet who deserved nothing but broccoli for dinner for a year for being so mean to his poor, helpless self. Blaine had to admit that he had had to resist chuckling a few times as Kurt's eyes became increasingly glassy and his insults increasingly nonsensical. He did not hold it against him; he knew that it had been a combination of Kurt's disdain for medicine mixed in with his annoyance for Blaine forcing it on him that had caused it.

"Sup dude," Finn greeted, once he responded. "The little dude's down for the count. Just thought I'd let you know."

"Thanks Finn," Blaine responded. "I expected that. I know you said those tablets hit him hard. It did stop the pain right?"

There was a brief pause before Finn sighed. "It dulled the worst of it, but I could tell he still was in some pain. I honestly think this is the worst episode he's had so far. Might not have been as bad if he had taken it from the onset but…he's a stubborn one."

"That he is," Blaine agreed with a rueful chuckle. "He won't be in school tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. Burt's already got an appointment booked for him just to check things out. They said this would happen, but it's supposed to be like a gradual build up to this? Not these random bursts. Got to make sure nothing's going wrong…but…"

"But?" Blaine pressed, swinging his legs up onto his table before snuggling down further into his chair for what was quickly becoming a long conversation.

"The alternative isn't much better, you know?" Finn said, his voice lowering slightly. "Kurt's got stage two paralysis. Or is it three? Whatever, all I can remember is that four and five are the worst. The tremors meant there's a possibility for recovery…the pain means that things are reconnecting but…it's not going to be easy. Blaine, do you know how it's supposed to be? Some patients suffer from chronic pain that lasts for days, sometimes weeks. So Burt's going to try to find out why Kurt isn't in constant pain and well, that's not a good thing right? I don't know which is better…well neither option is and it isn't fair you know.

"None of this is fair to Kurt. He's got to be in pain to get better, but for how long? He didn't ask for this. He didn't deserve it, none of it, and if this is what he has to go through to be better…Blaine, I can't say if it's worth it. He-He actually was getting happier you know? Those few months before July when this all started…he was happier. He'd started mastering things. Burt found a way to alter the Nav so he could drive again…he had you, things were looking up. And now this is happening and everything is in the air again. Can he get back use of it? Or is this going to be it? Him suffering from pain for the rest of his life.

"It's not fair to him dude, none of this is. He didn't ask for it, he doesn't deserve it. And this is all because stupid Karofsky decided that my lil bro couldn't be the person he was born to be. That it wasn't right. Kurt's got to suffer because of it, and in a few years that bastard's going to get to move on and live his life however he chooses and what does Kurt have, huh? Nothing."

Finn's voice by the end had grown shaky with both rage and sadness, something that Blaine could not fault him for. Kurt's situation was tragic on all levels, and the gentle giant was right; it was not at all fair to Kurt.

"I know Finn," Blaine responded, running a hand through his now, gel free hair. "It's not at all right that Kurt has to go through all of this. But you know what? I know he's strong enough to deal with it, no matter what comes. I mean he's persevered through it all so far. There are so many times when he could have quit, could have decided that fighting would not be worth it, but he does, he continues to do so every day. And you're right; he's come so far from before. I don't know the Kurt you knew Finn. I can only speak of the Kurt I finally talked to under the trees. But that Kurt had strength about him even then, and it's a strength I still see in him now – a lot more than before. Kurt can do this Finn. He can handle whatever the future has, good or bad. We just need to stand by him.

"And," he continued, "it's not like it is all bad. Remember the doctor said that surgery is still going to be an option for him if it seems that nothing more can come of it? The point is we know that his nerves are trying to fix themselves and that's good. If they can't do it on their own, the surgery should help. We just got to keep having faith, faith in Kurt, faith in his body, faith in the doctors who I really do hope know what they're doing. I believe that Kurt can make it through this Finn; he's the bravest person I know and no matter what lies ahead, I know he can brave through it. We just got to stand by him through it all."

"You are very wise," Finn said with a watery chuckle. "And to think I gave you the option to leave months ago. I don't think any of this would have been possible without you. You've made a difference for him, Blaine, I can't even begin to quantify how much."

"I love him," Blaine replied simply, the words laced with his emotions. "I think I loved him from the moment I first laid eyes on him, and nothing is going to change that."

"I believe that," Finn responded sincerely, "I don't think there's getting you out of his – out of our lives at this point. Not that I think I want that anyway."

It was nice talking to Blaine, Finn thought, minutes after ending his conversation with him. He had admitted things to the older teenager he had not even realised he was feeling, but he was glad for it. He felt lighter now, more in control. Seeing Kurt like that, a whimpering mass in the back seat of his car after Blaine had left them and he felt safe enough to let all his guards down had been a task for him. It was only the knowledge that Kurt needed him to be strong and in control that had given him the strength to maintain composed. But with him safely tucked into bed and his parents in the family room doing domestic bliss things that Finn had been able to let go a bit, and thankfully Blaine was a good listener.

Kurt really was lucky to have found someone like him and at such a time in his life. Somehow, Finn was certain that, much like he had told Blaine, the Dalton teen would be with them for the considerable future, if not forever. It was becoming increasingly hard to envision Kurt without Blaine and vice versa. Finn felt a brief twinge at that thought, slightly envious that he could not say that he had the same thing. But then again, not everyone was lucky enough to find what he believed to be true love as a teenager; he was just content that it was Kurt, a person in desperate need of some happiness in his life, who had been given this gift.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt was more than happy to sink down into the plush comfort of the Common Room's sofa, curling up into himself. To be fair he would have rather been sprawled out beneath the tree that he loved to think of as his and Blaine's. However, it was raining heavily, and the Warblers had a practice session. And, although Blaine would not have too much time to spend with him until it was over, Kurt was content to just relax and watch the happenings of the room.

It had been a tough few days for him, filled with tests and therapy and keeping up with his workload despite the fact that he still only attended school on what basically amounted to as a part-time student. Not for the first time, Kurt was thankful that Dalton had such an understanding staff that honestly cared for his wellbeing and was more than willing to make exceptions for him. It was why he was working on something extra special for his literature teacher Mr. Kentwood, but that was still a few days in the making.

His arm still hurt. The pain had not stopped since it had first begun. Thankfully though, it had settled into a dull burning throb below the skin that though, while still distracting and irritating was considerably easier to manage than the sharp, throbbing pain from before. It was his own fault though that he was suffering from discomfort because he only took his medication (he had now been issued a non-drowsy version that, unfortunately still left him in a sort of haze) when the pain was driving him crazy. He knew that his family and boyfriend (not to mention his doctors) would be more than displeased when they finally noticed, but, in addition to not wanting to take the tablets, Kurt was, honestly a bit fascinated by the fact that he could feel pain in the arm. The pain, though horrible, was intriguing to him after so long of feeling nothing, and it was a feeling he both enjoyed and despised. It was a weird belief that he could not properly articulate.

Kurt lifted his useless arm onto his lap, observing it. It was trembling faintly – he had not even noticed it, and, experimentally, he pressed a finger through the cloth of his shirt, closing his eyes. He was not certain if it was only his mind being hopefully, but, in Kurt's opinion, he could feel just the slightest hint of pressure at the point of contact. He did not press his luck beyond that though, and relented, content to just look at the trembling limb while embracing the pain.

How long he did that, he did not know. However, he was drawn out of his contemplation by the raised, surprisingly emotional voice of his boyfriend. Eyes wide, Kurt looked up, immediately concerned. Blaine was facing Wes, a frown on his face. Kurt's head cocked slightly in curiosity. Wes had been on the phone for a while (allowed only because he was in contact with the staff liaison that as far as Kurt was concerned, was only there to sign the occasional consent form). He hadn't even realised that he had ended the conversation, but, it seemed that Blaine was not at all pleased by the end of that conversation. His fingers unconsciously dug into the skin of his other arm, as, despite himself, he eased back further into the cushions behind him. He would just be an observer to whatever was happening now, he decided, even as a part of him wondered why his eyes briefly darted to the door, establishing that he indeed had a quick path to escape.

"You got to be kidding me, Wes," Blaine groaned, frustration clear in his voice. "I thought we agreed that this wouldn't happen again. I don't want to have a joint concert again."

"What?" Trent interjected from across the room. All activity had ceased at Blaine's outburst. "Don't tell me you're talking about Crawford."

A chorus of groans abounded about the room that piqued Kurt's curiosity. Crawford was the female version of Dalton if he recalled correctly.

"They want us to have a joint performance again," Wes explained as Blaine seemed content to just stand there and glower.

Kurt flinched when abruptly voices erupted from around the room. He whimpered slightly, seconds later when a blazer suddenly appeared in his periphery, but, looking up, he calmed when he saw Andrew there, looking at him with a hint of concern. He offered him a shaky smile, shaking his head when he shot a speaking glance to the door. He was grateful though, when the redhead dropped down beside him on the couch, reaching over to put a calming hand on his knee, anchoring him.

In the chaos that continued on for a bit, Kurt learnt a few things. It seemed as if the Warblers did not get along with the Crawford girls and seemingly not out of antagonism, as much as for the fact that the girls were just…such girls about it. They flirted, flitted about and did all the other things that Kurt would have thought the (straight) boys would have enjoyed experiencing. The reality though, was far different. It was as if the Warblers were that much dedicated to their craft that they could actually put their hormones on hold.

At the end of it, there seemed like no consensus had been made. The decision for the joint concert was still in the suggestion and not decided stage so David, assuming his role as Council member finally decreed that they should just focus on the upcoming Sectionals and not worry about a concert that was still, as of now, undecided. Practice ended early for once, because it seemed as if no one could really muster the spirit or concentration to continue on as they had been pre-call.

Kurt, grateful for his support, offered Andrew a small, yet sincere thank you, for the support he had given him, going slightly cross-eyed when the redhead ruffled his hair roughly in a way that unconsciously mimicked Finn's usual action. Kurt smiled in spite of himself, a smile that faded though when he realised why his boyfriend had fallen outside of his periphery. He had, at some point in the discussion, moved to one of the bay windows in the room and was curled up on it, seemingly lost in thought.

The younger teenager was not quite certain how to handle the situation. He had never seen Blaine like that, in any other state besides happy, supportive or even worried. None of it though had ever prepared him for a morose Blaine that was saddened about something directly relating to himself. And Kurt really was not sure of what to do to fix it. After a moment though, he recalled a quiet moment in August, when, after a particularly tense moment for Kurt at an ice cream shop, Blaine had managed to soothe him in a way that prevented him withdrawing fully into himself. Later on, Kurt had inquired about just how Blaine had known what to do. Blaine had simply shrugged and answered that he just did what seemed to be most natural for him.

So that is what Kurt did.

Although still hesitant, Kurt rose and crossed the room, gaining a hint of confidence as he approached and realised, that for the first time, he could potentially act like a pillar of strength for his boyfriend. Reaching him, Kurt looked at his bent form for a moment before, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. It was a simple gesture really, but it worked. Blaine looked up instantly, locking their gaze. Kurt read his emotions easily – annoyance, confusion and a hint of actual anger. Nevertheless, after a few seconds, something else crept into the gaze- a fondness that Kurt was used to as the older teenager reached up to squeeze Kurt's hand, claiming it. He tangled their fingers, and Kurt's heart swelled minutely when Blaine bent his head enough to kiss the back of his hand before, with a slight shuffle on his part and a tug, pulling Kurt down into the newly created space between his legs.

Kurt squeaked at the abrupt gesture, before shifting into a more comfortable position, wiggling until he was cradled between Blaine's legs, as he used his torso as a back rest. He sighed when Blaine's arms curled around his waist, pulling him even tighter into his frame before he dropped his chin onto his shoulder, nuzzling gently into his neck. Kurt hummed contentedly, relaxing fully and allowing his hand to move down and cover Blaine's.

They didn't speak for a long while, Kurt happy to just soak in the pleasure of Blaine's presence. Gradually, he felt the tenseness of Blaine's frame relax, until perhaps twenty minutes later, he felt Blaine's lips against the skin of his neck, before he pulled back with a sigh.

"Feeling better?" Kurt asked, his voice quiet, respectful of the peacefulness they were surrounded by.

"A lot," he responded, his voice lower than normal. "Thank you, poppet."

"I didn't do anything."

"You did everything," he countered, squeezing him for a moment. "I worried you, didn't I? I'm sorry."

"It's fine. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nothing good comes out of us joining forces with the Crawford girls," Blaine grumbled. "Look, can I take a rain check on this conversation? I'm not trying to shut you out, far from that, but I don't want to talk about it right now."

"It's okay," Kurt reassured him, twisting so that he could briefly kiss his cheek. "I understand. I don't always explain things to you, do I? So it's fine. You're just…you're sure you're okay though?"

"I am Kurt, I am."

They cuddled for a bit longer, Kurt twisting so that he could more easily access Blaine's face, the result of it several long, sweet kisses that left them both flushed and a bit breathless, when finally, with a soft mewl, Kurt buried his face into the crook of his boyfriend's neck. Blaine chuckled at the gesture, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Blaine started a soothing caress against the bit of his back he could reach. "You know," he said eventually, "I was thinking."

"And how much did that hurt?" Kurt laughed a second later, when, in response to his quip, Blaine pinched his side.

"As I said, I was thinking."

"And?"

"Maybe we should consider getting you a sling."

"Huh?" Kurt said in confusion.

"For your arm," Blaine clarified. "I read that eventually the tremors will get worst and your arm will actually like…jerk around. A sling could help prevent you from hurting yourself in that situation."

"Oh…that's actually a good idea," Kurt admitted, looking down and envisioning it. "We'll have to customise it first…"

"I'll put all the rhinestones exactly where you want them," Blaine responded with a laugh, glad that Kurt was easily accepting the suggestion, "in every pattern that suits your fancy."


	4. Chapter 4

"Come here you," Finn ordered, the minute Kurt rounded the doorway into the living room.

Kurt smiled, happy to see his brother as, hooking his bag on a rung on the wall, he approached him, letting out a small "Oaf!" when Finn grabbed his hand and tugged him down beside him on the couch. Kurt wiggled for a moment into a more comfortable position curled up against the gentle giant's side. "What's this about?" he asked then, reaching over him to snag a handful of over-buttered popcorn, grimacing only slightly as he popped it into his mouth.

"Can't I just want to spend time with my favourite little brother?"

"I'm your only brother," Kurt grumbled good-naturedly. "And I see through your game Finnegan. You just want to know if Rachel mentioned you."

He grunted a denial that had Kurt rolling his eyes fondly. It was Sunday evening, the weekend before Sectionals, and, deciding to contribute to the delinquency of his former schoolmates a bit, he had agreed to attend a sleepover with Rachel and Mercedes. It had been far too long since he had been to one of those, he decided, a smile ghosting over his lips as he thought of the fun they had had together. So much had changed since their freshman year and it was a bit overwhelming to consider that fact.

Finn was no longer the jock he and Rachel giggled over while Mercedes rolled her eyes and waited for the perfect moment to complain about the growing shortage of tatter tots in Lima. He was no longer the snappy diva-ish teenager masking his problems behind layers and layers of admittedly outlandish fashion choices. And Mercedes…well Mercedes was still Mercedes, although, given the time she had spent with Quinn during the last months of a pregnancy he was ashamed to admit he had not really given a lot of thought about (although given the trauma he had suffered during that time span, it was understandable) she had gotten a bit of worldly knowledge that at times led to her making surprisingly mature statements.

So, for all intents and purposes it really had been a novel experience for him, with occasional bouts of awkwardness that they were thankfully all able to laugh off without much consequence. He whined about them being unfair wretches when they had kidnapped his phone to have a detailed conversation with Blaine. They regaled him with tales of all the things he had missed out on. He really appreciated that – their effort to keep him in the loop with all the events and happenings they were experiencing. He was even, when appropriate, rightfully angered or amused at the going-ons of the New Directioners. He really, at the end of the day, did not have the heart to tell them that while he understood their desire and was grateful for all they had done for him, he did not truly consider himself to be a part of them anymore. He would always have fond memories of them, and truly he was still determined to reconnect with some of them whom he had truly seen as friends at the time, but the group holistically? He simply did not have the connection he used to, and since he did not know how to go about explaining that to them, he had chosen to hold his tongue on the matter in the hopes that eventually they would try to stop including him into that aspect of his old life.

"Well?" Finn asked, after giving him a few minutes to steal a good bit of popcorn from the bowl, "did she mention me?"

"Finn," he grumbled, hitting his chest to show his annoyance.

"Oh come on…" he wheedled.

Kurt held out for a few more seconds, before, with a huff, nodding. "You know, this is exactly why I told Rachel we shouldn't talk about boys. I knew that you would drill me for information."

"Only the relevant bits," he requested sagely. "Like does she still like me?"

"That girl never stopped," Kurt huffed, "I have no idea why but she is entirely smitten with you Finnegan, and you need to figure out what you want."

Finn shrugged, and rather absentmindedly, slung an arm around Kurt, pulling him closer to him so that he could drum his fingers against his arm. "I like her…" he admitted slowly. "There's something about knowing that someone is there…rooting for you…caring for you…you know? I like that. I like knowing that she's always there waiting for me."

"But?"

Finn sighed. "I just…I don't think I'm right for her, lil bro. She's got all these dreams and aspirations. She's so talented and I'm just…me."

"Just you is great," Kurt interrupted, twisting to look at him. "You're a great person Finn Hudson. Don't sell yourself short."

"You're the short one," he teased briefly. "Rachel is destined for greatness Kurt, in a way I doubt I'll ever be. I don't wanna…you know…keep her back. She's crazy enough to give that up for me if it came down to it Kurt…I know that and I don't want that."

"Then go with her," Kurt shrugged. "New York's a great place."

Kurt felt Finn shrug. "I'm not sure I'll do good in New York. She will. You will. But not me. I've got all the makings of a Lima Loser…that's why I should go with Quinn."

"You think Quinn Fabray is a loser?" Kurt asked incredulously.

"We all are." Finn said sadly. "Well except you. You're special," he added, squeezing him in a one armed hug. "The rest of us are normal. And here? That makes us losers, lil bro. We're the people who are going to graduate, maybe go to Ohio State, get jobs, get married, have two kids and then watch them grow up and repeat the cycle. It's the average life…the loser life. You and Rachel though – you're bigger than this small town. And that's why you'll do great."

"No I won't," Kurt responded after a moment. "I've got nothing Finn. Nothing anymore. I guess that makes me a sub-par loser then."

Kurt knew that there was a lot that Finn wanted to say in response to that, but he didn't know how to frame it. And that was okay. Kurt just let himself snuggle deeper into his side and let the silence reign.

The Monday after Sectionals found Kurt once again seated on the Warbler's couch with a strange case of déjà vu. Somehow (not that he was complaining) the Warblers and the New Directions had tied for first place at the competition, putting them both through to the next round. But, it seemed that since was so many months away, the team seemed to have done a one eighty, turning all of their focus to the winter programme that Dalton held annually. And Kurt had, at first been intrigued, curious to learn more about the event. However, he had not anticipated his boyfriend getting upset once again.

"I thought we'd decided that this was not going to happen?" Trent complained from his spot at the bay window, a seriously disgruntled expression on his face.

There was a murmur of agreement from around the room. Kurt frowned minutely, regretting not pressing Blaine for more information all those weeks ago so he would have a better handle on what was happening now. Everyone, once again, seemed so against what he still believed to be a simple performance. Surely the girls couldn't be that terrible? Blaine hadn't even said a thing so far, but, looking at him, Kurt could fairly see the tension radiating off him, and it took considerable effort on his part not to go to his side immediately and try to soothe it away, or to, at the very least, murmur something to him that would help ease the furrow of his triangular brows.

David's tone was resigned as he spoke from his position between Wes and Thad. "We managed to negotiate as much as we could guys, but it seems like the schools are determined to make this happen despite what we want. Last year was such a success," he ended sarcastically.

"We were too good on stage," Nick said with a huff. "If we had…not caught them during spins or just made a good fool out of ourselves we wouldn't be in this position now."

"Unfortunately," Thad replied, "we didn't do that, and now we're back here, once again. Look, I'm sorry guys. None of us want to do this…some of us more than others, but we'll just have to make the best of it as we can."

"We did manage to talk them down," Wes added, a hopeful lilt to his tone. "We have to have one collaborated group number between them. That's definite. Each team is going to have its own performance – any format and genres we want. It just has to be less than ten minutes long. Thad's already suggested that we just repeat our Sectionals performance there. It'd mean one less routine to worry about, and the concert _is_ the day after exams end. Anyway, jumping a bit ahead of myself there… Finally…the board wants a duet and – guys let me finish," he begged as a next wave of boos, "no"s and hissing abounded. "We asked, for your sake Blaine," he added looking at him, "if we could just open up the duets to anyone, but Crawford's representative sort of nixed that."

"Priscilla's aunt is still their representative?" Andrew asked darkly.

Wes only grimaced before continuing. "They insist that the duet should be between the lead singers."

"There is one other option though!" Thad interjected anxiously.

Kurt's attention was still fixed on his boyfriend who was becoming increasingly upset if the way his fists were clenched was anything to go by. Kurt swallowed, his anxiety increasing minutely in response to it.

"What's that option?" Jess asked, although he sounded sceptical at best.

"Well…we technically haven't been ordered to have a joint duet. We could, in theory, just have it between two of our Warblers. The same goes for them, although we all know Priscilla won't go for that."

"But?" Blaine said dully, speaking for the first time. "There's always a catch."

"There is," David said reluctantly. "They're going to provide the list of songs we can choose from to duet."

Blaine's face, if possible, darkened further, and Kurt felt himself sinking back into the couch. He wasn't afraid of Blaine, he truly wasn't. It was just the fact that he was angry, and growing increasingly angry, and, as happened whenever he encountered that emotion, Kurt found his mind flashing back to those angry voices that had cut off his performance abruptly, the force with which he was slammed to the ground…the dull gleam of the knife – Kurt pinched his leg firmly to jog himself out of the memory. He could not panic now…it was the last thing anyone needed to deal with in the already tense situation unfolding in the room.

David sighed, turning to Wes, who seemed, almost reluctant to take over. "Based on the songs they were throwing about, we don't have diverse enough ranges to manage it."

"So," Blaine stated, reading between the lines. "I don't have to duet with Priscilla, but the songs they've chosen make it so that if I don't do it, the Warblers look like an out-of –tune bunch of wannabes."

"Is you and Kurt just making out in front of Priscilla still not an option?"

"She's delusional enough to think that that's still a diversionary tactic," Nick grumbled. "I still get messages from Amelia. What we need to do is get her and her entire clique suspended before then."

"Gentlemen," Thad said in a placating tone when immediately a number of possible ways to accomplish that started bandying about the room, "I don't think that's the right approach."

"Well it's not like you guys have a way out of this for us."

"We'll work something out Blaine," Andrew declared, reaching over to clasp his shoulder in comfort. "There must be a way around this, and even if we can't, we won't let Priscilla get her grimy hands on you again."


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt had wanted to talk to Blaine immediately after the meeting had ended - once again early because no one seemed able to concentrate given the impending situation. Blaine however, had had another idea, kissing Kurt's cheek in a loving, yet slightly distracted way before asking him if they could instead move to 'their spot' first. He rightfully knew that there was no way Kurt would have let him gotten away without discussing things this time around.

He had agreed willingly, glad that the Fall chill seemed to be coming late to Ohio this year so that they could still comfortably sit there. In the previous week, Blaine had joked about asking his housekeeper to send him his favourite quilt so that they could cuddle out here even in the snow; Kurt still wasn't quite certain whether or not he was joking about that (but really he would not put it past him to do so).

He held his curiosity until they were settled beneath it, giving Blaine a few minutes to de-stress himself and to lose the frown he still wore. Thankfully though, his raw anger seemed to have lessened and, his smile to Kurt as he claimed his lap as a head-rest was genuine, Kurt enjoying the hint of mischief in his eyes before he twisted to the side, turning away from Kurt. He didn't mind though; he knew from experience that sometimes it was easier to look away when talking. He amused himself with the challenge of disrupting the work of Blaine's hair gel, ever so often emitting little sounds of victory whenever he managed to get his gingers to run smoothly through a section.

"I don't like Priscilla," Blaine said eventually.

"I gathered as much," Kurt responded, tugging on a curl in encouragement.

"It goes beyond me though. The Warblers, historically have not had a good history with the Crawford girls, despite the fact that we're brother-sister schools. There's always chaos and confusion whenever we interact, and it never really works out well. In Wes's brother's year, there was this huge scandal. You see in that year there were talks of integrating the two schools. I think Dalton's building would be the home of juniors and seniors, and Crawford's buildings would hold the freshmen and sophomores. They started the experiment by merging our clubs."

"I take it that it didn't work out?" Kurt guessed seeing that that grand plan had not come to fruition.

"Nope. By the end of the year there were at least ten pregnant girls and the boards decided that separate schools were probably the best way to promote abstinence."

Kurt snorted at that, despite himself. "Thwarted by horniness, I did not see that coming."

Blaine chuckled, rubbing Kurt's calf briefly. "It was basically a modern day marriage mart," he said, "I'm not too sad that it failed. Ever so often though, they try to reconnect the schools in new, more controlled ways, and, for some reason made the Arts clubs the targets. Sometimes there are joint plays, but less common, the glee clubs merge and perform. It was the highlight of last Christmas' concerts. But it was hell for us, but the administration either is pretending not to remember that or else don't care. It's probably a mixture of the both. More than that, the investors would love it, so who cares if the performers are miserable, huh?"

Blaine paused, shifting himself further up Kurt's thigh so that he could put his hand over his knee.

"It was horrible Kurt, more so for me. Those girls are a different level of psycho. Not all of them, but...there's this girl, Priscilla. She's the principal's niece and she gets her way a lot of times because of it. She controls the glee club, and she has a clique in it that are...weird. They went after us last year. One girl nearly managed to break Nick and Jeff apart because Jeff just couldn't take it. Nick's bi-sexual, and Jeff is actually the first boyfriend he has ever had. Nick won't admit it, but we all knew he was attracted to her to some extent, but his heart lay with Jeff. It still does. But it was rough last year, and when Amelia plainly cornered Jeff after a practice and told him to back off, Jeff did. Jeff backed away from a six month relationship because he's not a fighter. Nick found out quickly though and kicked Amelia to the curb, but even now, at linked events, she still tries to get with Nick or insults Jeff. They're bought graduating this year thankfully, and with Nick heading abroad to study, things should hopefully stabilise with regards to that.

"Wow," was all Kurt could manage to say.

"That's not the half of it. There was another one, Cassandra. Thankfully she graduated, but she went after Thad. She was his brother's ex but that didn't bother her at all. Trent's parents actually had to get involved there. He never speaks about it. I could go on and on and that bunch, Kurt."

"But what about you?" Kurt inquired carefully. "Everyone seems so worried about you and...Priscilla. What happened with the two of you?"

Blaine's voice took on an odd quality when he spoke next. "I know Priscilla - from before I mean. She's the daughter of one of my dad's business associates, so growing up we kind of ending up in the same circles. I never liked her though. She was mean, demanding and high maintenance. She also had this notion that she and I would be the perfect match for each other. I'm just glad that, being gay aside, my parents aren't the sort to use me as a bargaining chip in their business dealings, you know? So there was never any pressure outside from her, and for a while, it was just...amusing Kurt. Ever so often we would see each other, she would flirt, I would rebuff her and that'd be the end of the matter. I never accepted any of her facebook requests, after Thad warned me she was sharing my posts and stuff and claiming that I was her dorky, nerdy boyfriend, I basically locked down my profile, and deleted myself from a lot of other media because it just wasn't worth the hassle.

"But then, the duet happened. She's the head of the Crawford glee club, even though she's far from being the best singer or even having the best presence on the stage, but hey, privileges, you know? So there were far less options last year. We were basically ordered to perform with them - three songs, all co-ed. It was horrible Kurt. She was all over me, her clique was making havoc among us and the remaining girls spent their time trying and failing to keep order or else just stayed to themselves cringing in sympathy. I don't even know how we managed to pull together enough to perform, but then again Wes is relentless...

"Anyway, the worst part about it was that she and I had to duet - her orders that we couldn't overrule. I didn't mind too much. How bad could one duet be?" Blaine laughed darkly. "It was...I don't even know how to explain first. She insisted that we practiced alone. When I vetoed that idea, she went over my head and got it made mandatory. She insisted on calling me all hours of the day and night under the guise of practice. She showed up here on any opportunity and once again started spreading around stupid rumours that we were a couple. And since, while I'm fully out of the closet, I wasn't in a relationship with anyone, there were people who actually believed her nonsense and took my denials as just me being shy.

"And then there was one day...the day before the show actually. She turned up out of the blue and insisted we do a last, private duet. I really was just fed-up at the time and decided that, hey, fine, one more day and it'd be over. We would have done the performance and that would be the end of it. Kurt...I'm just glad Wes and David realised that something seemed off about the whole thing and turned up when they did. Otherwise..."

Blaine didn't finish, his voice sort of just drifting off in a way that Kurt knew well. He had been lost in the midst of his own memories, unpleasant ones if the vein of what he had been saying was anything to go by. Kurt felt a cold shudder run through him at the thought of that; coupled with the troubled look on Blaine's face, Kurt knew that the Warblers were right and that this Priscilla bint was bad news for them, and more particularly, his boyfriend.

When Blaine spoke again, there was still an edge of oddness to his tone, that Kurt wish he could have erased.

"I don't want to waste anymore of my time on her Kurt," he said, "especially now when I have you to invest it in. I don't want to spend six weeks dancing to the beat of her tunes, but there really is no way out from it. I just want to focus on you, on school, on my friends and enjoy every last moment of my final year in high school. I don't want her to ruin that for me too."

"Oh Blaine," Kurt breathed, ignoring the pang of pain that lanced through his heart at the remainder that Blaine was ahead of him by a year, and that, come the end of this year...no, he would not dwell on that fact right now.

"You know what else sucks Kurt?" Blaine asked rhethorically, not picking up on Kurt's shifting thoughts. "Wes showed me the song lists. He's right, there's no-one among us who can manage to match me singing. They're all male-female songs and it'd be unfair to ask anyone else to strain to meet that just so I don't have to deal with Priscilla. But that's not even the worst part," he grumbled, shifting again, "My favourite song is on that list, and knowing my rotten luck, that'd be the song she insists on us doing together and I just can't Kurt. Not that song. I can't have her ruining that for me too."

"What song is that?" Kurt whispered, after bending to kiss Blaine's temple soothingly. It was an awkward angle, but the effort was well worth seeing how Blaine relaxed minutely, leaning into the caress. "What's your favourite song?"

"Baby It's Cold Outside," Blaine answered with a sigh, finally rolling so that, although upside down, their eyes could meet. "My Gran always played it while she was alive. Once Thanksgiving was over, that song would be on, anytime of the day or night. She had her first dance with Grandpa to it, you see, and she said hearing it made her feel that much closer to him. She would always be walking about, cooking or cleaning while singing along to it." Blaine smiled, "My dad had ensured that there was a full staff in the house so Gran wouldn't have to do a thing, and she'd just scoff and send them on their way with full pay and do it all herself. Sometimes she'd pick me up and put me on her waist and we would waltz through the rooms. When I was a bit bigger she'd have me stand on her feet and we'd do the same thing. Those are some of the best memories I have of Gran, just me and her to that song. Even now I play that song at least once a week around Christmas time. It's our song Kurt, and I don't want that ruined by Priscilla. I rather drop out of the Warblers first than let her taint something else of me," he finished, anger and despair battling for supremacy in his voice.

"I wish I could help Blaine," Kurt murmured, and even to his own ears, he could hear the way tears was thickening his voice. "I'm so sorry. If I knew how to help you, I would, in a heartbeat."

"Hey, hey, hey," Blaine said quickly, sitting up and cuppign his face. "It's my problem to deal with poppet. Don't let it upset you okay? I'll be fine."

"It's not fair," Kurt responded, putting his hand over the one on his cheek. "You do so much for me, and the one time you have a problem, there's nothing I can do to fix it."

"You're helping Kurt," Blaine told him earnestly, his thumb moving over his silky skin. "You just let me vent it all out. And you know what? I feel better now, lighter. You're helping me just by being here, and being you, and letting me whine for a bit, okay?"

"You're not whining," Kurt corrected, although a smile was slowly formulating, "you're complaining about the injustices you face, and that's perfectly understandable."

"It is," Blaine agreed. "Thank you poppet, for just letting me talk. I will be fine. I will get through this - the Warblers will get through this. I love you."

"I love you," Kurt returned with full sincerity. "And if this Priscilla becomes too much just let me know, okay. I've got some people on standby that can go full Lima Heights on her if needed."

"Poppet has a gang," Blaine teased, before kissing him tenderly. "Now let's talk about something more pleasant until you have to leave okay?"

"Okay," Kurt agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

It wasn't until two, maybe three days later that Kurt finally realised why his family was shooting him weird glances ever so often. His realisation came accidentally. He was home alone since Finn had a game and both of his parents had gone to watch in a show of support. Kurt felt mildly proud of the fact that they all trusted him to be alone now for any stretch of time. He was slowly regaining his independence, and he was enjoying every second of it.

Except...if he was the only one home (which he definitely was), why was he hearing a soft, husky voice singing the same few lines over and over? The dawning came slowly to him, until finally, he realised that the odd sound he had been hearing, but really was not paying attention to, was being generated from him.

Kurt dropped the slice of cheese he had been holding. It was him. _He_ was the one singing the first few lines of Blaine's favourite Christmas song softly. Immediately he clamped his lips shut, feeling suddenly queasy. He backed up until he could drop down into a chair, passing a hand over his sweaty brow even as he tried and failed to stop his rapidly increasing breathing.

He could not process what he had been unconsciously doing. He had not sung in so long - had not even thought about it except with bitter acceptance of the loss of his dreams. But, actually singing again? That had never, ever, occurred to him. How could he? How could he even think of standing on a stage anymore when the only thing that happened when he saw a stage, far less stood on one, was the memory of the hulking shadowy figures of his bullies approaching him and his fright, panic and pain.

Kurt took a deep, shuddering breath, using the calming techniques he had been taught to stabilise himself before he had a full blown panic attack. He did not need that, especially when he was all alone. Finally, with his breathing at a more normal rate, he got up and fetched the duplicate set of medication they kept in the living room, not even grimacing at its necessity before he swallowed two dry, sandwich making completely abandoned in favour of just dropping down onto the couch and curling up, waiting for the now welcomed haze that would descend upon him.

"You okay bud?" Burt asked the next morning, sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed.

Kurt didn't even question anything. How he had gotten up here, how his uniform had been swapped with his pyjamas, and why Burt had put a plate of what was obviously a combination of all of his favourite breakfast things on his study table.

"Better now, daddy," he answered, not even bothering to deny it. "Finn won?"

Burt snorted. "They lost by three."

"That's an improvement," Kurt quipped, sitting up.

He didn't complain when his father's hand descended to his head and started running thick, calloused fingers through his hair.

"You want to talk about it?" Burt inquired eventually, once Kurt had made a good indent into his pancakes and fruit.

"Not really," Kurt responded once he had swallowed, "but I know you're going make me anyway."

"Either me or the doctor, bud."

"I realised I was singing yesterday," Kurt blurted out immediately, and despite the situation, Burt snorted.

"You didn't know? You started humming a few days back. Carole said it was better not to mention it in case...well...this happened. Is this a bad thing bud? You loved singing."

" _Loved_ dad," Kurt told him, "past tense. I can't do that again."

"Seems to me that your subconscious disagrees bud," Burt told him carefully, taking the now empty plate and setting it aside.

"My subconscious seems to want to help my boyfriend," he grumbled.

"Something's wrong with Mr. Dapperoni?"

"Don't call him that," he chided, just as Burt knew he would.

Kurt explained the situation to him as best as he could. "I could help them daddy," he ended sadly. "I was a counter-tenor after all. But..."

"You're scared to," Burt finished with a hint of sadness. "Look bud," he told him, "I can't tell you what to do here. I _won't_ tell you what to do. What I can tell you is that singing was a damn important part of your life, just as much as fashion was and I don't think that part of you is as gone as you believe. I'm not telling you that you have to sing, but it seems to me that there's a part of you that is ready to try again if only for Blaine's sake.

"It's up to you of course, no one can force you. Blaine doesn't know what you can do. So you don't have to help if you want to. I understand, he'd understand. The same holds true if you decide to do it bud. Everyone will be behind you one hundred percent. We all just want the best for you."

Kurt sighed, knowing the truth of his words, but not appreciating it nonetheless. "Things were a whole lot easier when you used to just tell me what to do, daddy."

"When was that?" Burt asked incredulously. "You've been in charge since the day you were born kid."

Kurt chuckled at that. "I guess I have some things to think about, huh?"

"You do," Burt agreed. "Take your time; you'll make the right choice. You always do."

Kurt knocked lightly on his favourite teacher's classroom door, waiting for permission to enter.

"Hey, Mr. Kentwood," he greeted, opening the door, "got a minute?"

"Come on in, Kurt," he said, waving at him. "Don't tell me you have another surprise project for me?"

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head. "I was wondering if I can talk to you for a bit?"

"Of course. I told you, you could. Take a seat."

"Thanks."

"Now," Mr. Kentwood stated, after folding the newspaper he had been reading, "What's on your mind?"

"I need an independent opinion on something I'm thinking about doing. Someone who is in no way involved in it so might have a clearer perspective."

"No I don't think getting a tattoo before you're twenty one is something you should do, Kurt."

"Sir," Kurt gasped, laughing. "I don't want a tattoo!"

"Well isn't that one of the major decisions you teenage hooligans go through at some point?"

Kurt chuckled. This was a side to the usually strict teacher that few students saw. There were actually people who were scared of the man. And, Kurt supposed, if it wasn't for the fact that he had had to deal with the legendary Sue Sylvester, he would probably have been in the same position as them. It wasn't that though; the man simply had a sarcastic, witty way that could intimidate unless you realised that he wasn't aiming to hurt. He just didn't have an off-switch.

"You know about the Christmas Concert right?" he asked.

"An unfortunate two and a half hours of torment which I am mandated to attend," he answered with a sigh, "but I'm assuming you're referring more particularly to the conundrum your Warblers have gotten themselves into?"

Kurt smiled slightly at the 'your'. "Yes sir," he responded.

"They have till Friday to submit their programme for approval, which means they're either going to actually stage a rebellion or else just suck it up and perform."

"Does everyone not like Crawford?" Kurt asked, surprised by the barest hint of malice in the man's tone.

The teacher shrugged. "I've been teaching here a while Kurt and was present when the governors decided it was a great idea to merge the schools. It still gives me nightmares. I have nothing against the students of the school mind you. I just wish its hidden curriculum didn't involve teaching those girls that their back-up plan is getting a good husband. We're in the twenty first century for god's sake."

It seemed like a grouse the man had had for a while, Kurt noted.

"Anyway," he continued, "I'm assuming this has something to do with you?"

Kurt nodded, suddenly feeling hesitant. "I can sing."

"I know," he responded simply, "I've read your last school's file."

"No, I can _sing_...I'm a counter tenor."

"Oh-oh," he said then, realisation dawning. "So you're potentially the solution to the duet drama?"

"You really do know everything do you?"

"I like to be knowledgeable about the things my students are going through, even if I can't fix it. So, if I'm understanding correctly, you can join the Warblers, and in doing so be Mr. Anderson's duet partner, effectively eliminating that problem."

"Yes," he agreed. "Except..."

"Except you aren't sure you can perform," he correctly concluded.

"That's it exactly sir," Kurt told him. "That's why I want to know what you think. Blaine doesn't even know... I've only spoken with my family about it. My dad says to do what I think is best. My step-mom said to go for it as long as I'm comfortable, but my step-brother is against it."

"And what does Kurt think?"

"I-I don't know. I love Blaine, sir, and this is the first time I'd be able to really help him. It won't make a dent into the amount of things he's done for me, but I can try. And-"

"Hang on a bit, Kurt," he interrupted. "Lesson number one, never keep a tally in a relationship."

"Huh?"

"That'll be a problem in the long run if you do so. Relationships are about balancing each other out and helping each other become the best person they can be. The minute you start counting deeds, it becomes a competition."

"Oh...that makes sense," Kurt admitted, thinking about it.

"Right, so let's take that out of the equation. Try again."

Kurt nodded. "I love Blaine and because I love him I want to help him. Plus it'd help out all of the Warblers and I really do like them."

"Better," he acknowledged. "That is a good reason to help them, but I sense a drawback?"

"I'm terrified," he said. "I can't think of the stage without getting scared. I want to help them, but I'm scared."

"Is this something you want to work past?"

Kurt hesitated for a moment before speaking. "My counsellor says I shouldn't let the past hold me down forever. It's a part of me, but it doesn't control me."

"Sound advice."

"I used to love singing," Kurt added. "I wanted to be on Broadway."

"And what's stopping you?" the man asked simply

"This is," he said, with some frustration, gesturing at his arm.

"Your arm is stopping you, or are _you_ stopping you?"

That question struck Kurt to the core. He didn't know how to respond to it.

"I think I've given you something to think about," Mr. Kentwood said after a moment. "I may have just added to your confusion, which I apologise for, but I think if you can answer that question first, you'll figure out what you need to do."

"How will I find the answer to that?" Kurt inquired softly.

"By finding out what it is that makes you, you."

Muscle memory was a strange thing. Even though Kurt hadn't thought about the New Directions in so long, far less for their YouTube channel, when he closed his eyes and let his fingers dance across the keyboards, they automatically inserted the correct password (thankfully Rachel had never changed it). He worked his way through the slew of videos until he found the section he wanted - a list of videos that Rachel had either unlisted or made private.

The channel, at one point, had been more than just a showcase of some of their musical numbers. It also had been a forum where they had put up some of the high jinks they got up into as well. It was those that she had made private. Finn had told him about it. In the aftermath, people had taken to any online forum they could have found to spew further hate at him for 'ruining' Karofsky and his cohorts. His Facebook account had thankfully already been ironclad, and so they had taken to venting on his Tumblr, and unfortunately on the group's channel. Moderating the comments had quickly taken its toll, so Rachel had (wisely) just removed everything that featured him prominently from public view.

Locked in his room, with the lights off, Kurt Hummel sat and watched himself of yesteryear...That Kurt was happier. He talked freely, was snarky, witty and at times downright bitchy. That Kurt could easily hold the attention of those around him, and had the best of comebacks (sometimes) for the barbs Santana threw his way. That Kurt sang, dropping down into the lower registers to match the boys, easily hitting the high notes to complement the girls. He was even dumbfounded for a bit when he came across a video titled "The Truth" that showed his solo rehearsal for "Defying Gravity". He had no idea how Mercedes had managed to film him, but the comments were in defence of him, with Mercedes letting it be known that he had deliberately blown the note, and Rachel, even more surprisingly, admitting that she had figured that out a few days after the fact when he had managed (he didn't remember the song) to easily hit a note higher than that while they were singing along to the radio at her house.

Kurt didn't know when the tears began. His teacher's words echoed in his mind. He needed to know himself first of all, but who was he? Was he this person sitting here, broken and forsaken who had given up everything he had loved because of an injury? Or was he that Kurt with the conquer the world attitude? Was the Kurt of today capable of striding onto that stage with all the confidence in the world, demanding, not asking, his audience to listen and become a part of the world he would create when he sang. Or was he content to just sit here in the background, try to find out a new life plan and go along with it?

What did this Kurt want? Could he, as his counsellor kept saying, find a balance. He had been changed, irrevocably so, but changes did not necessarily mean that he had to lose himself. And wasn't it true that some of the world's greatest had translated their pain into success? Maybe, maybe Broadway was no longer in the cards for him. Maybe he could never truly get into fashion as old Kurt had wanted to. But maybe, this Kurt, this new Kurt, could find a way.

There is a short, companion story that supplements this chapter titled "An Unexpected Project".


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine's worry increased the minute he saw Kurt that morning. His boyfriend looked tired – _bone tired_ and Blaine immediately wanted to bundle him back into his Nav and send him back home to his bed. It was evident in the rather wooden way that he walked, and from the hug that seemed just a bit too desperate, as if Kurt was trying to draw strength from him. He almost whined when Blaine pulled back, a soft protest against the loss of the comfort that was Blaine's frame. And, when Kurt looked up at him, Blaine saw that he was blinking rather owlishly, something he would have found adorable if not for the circumstances behind it.

"Had a rough night?" Blaine asked, leading him, not to the rec room as was customary, but rather to a bench beneath a tree. It wasn't too cold out, and Kurt was in a thick coat. Blaine knew that they could handle thirty or so minutes out in the fresh air before Blaine would get him a strong cup of coffee before class began to give his energy levels a slight boost.

"I didn't sleep much," Kurt admitted dully, waiting without being asked for Blaine to sit.

He reached out first to take and place Kurt's bag beside the bench before patting his lap expectantly. Momentarily, Kurt's head was pillowed on his thigh, and Blaine dug his fingers into his hair, creating a soothing sensation that immediately drew a yawn from the younger teen.

"How many hours did you manage?" Blaine inquired.

"Three at most," Kurt mumbled, closing his eyes. "I just had things on my mind, and after a while, I couldn't get my brain to shut up."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Things," Kurt hedged, twisting to his side so he could sort of nuzzle his cheek at the material of Blaine's leg. "It's nothing bad Blaine, please don't worry about it."

"You're not really being encouraging here, poppet," although he was careful to keep his voice soft and soothing. Kurt had gotten here a bit earlier than usual; by his summation, he could probably rest for about forty minutes and take the edge off his tiredness.

"I'll tell you when I wake up? I'm sleepy?"

Blaine couldn't help but smile at the quaint way in which Kurt was seemingly asking for permission to sleep. Vulnerable Kurt was quite an enchanting sight as it usually was and so he agreed. Besides, he added ruefully, to say anything else was to risk Kurt going from tired and sleepy to tired, sleepy and weepy. "Go ahead and sleep for a bit. I wish though you'd have just stayed home if you were this tired.

"Mmmhmm," was the nearest thing to a response Kurt gave him before seemingly falling asleep.

It was with actual regret that Blaine gently woke him a while later. He did it as gradual as he could, stroking his cheek, flicking his nose and jostling his leg until Kurt, with a whine, opened his eyes, but not after giving his offending leg a half hearted whack. Kurt gave a shuddering sigh, and when he turned so that his face was upwards, Blaine saw that he looked only the slightest bit more rested. He would still be in for a rough day though, and Blaine mentally ran his way through Kurt's schedule, morose when he realised that there really was no opportunity for him to catch a bit more sleep that day.

"Thank you," Kurt murmured, reaching up to trace the edge of Blaine's jaw. He ended up giggling when Blaine turned and playfully nipped at his fingers, growling ever so slightly. "You're silly!"

"And you like it," Blaine retorted, before grabbing his hand and mock-chomping on his fingers for a few seconds. The mirth left his eyes after a few seconds though. When he spoke next, it was with a serious from which Kurt knew that there would be no escape from whatever it is Blaine wanted. "We are going to talk about this," he told him. Blaine preferred not to have to do this, to adopt this rather authoritative tone that left no room for questioning. But, he had learnt the move from Finn, and to a lesser extent Burt, who had both told him bluntly that there were times when Kurt's desires had to be ignored for what was truly better for him. It wasn't as if Kurt would give in easily; inevitably he'd pout and grumble his complaints in a manner that Blaine sometimes found amusing.

He wondered at times if this was the remnants of a stubborn personality Kurt's family assured him that he had had at one point. It wasn't as if he didn't believe them. At times, when Kurt seemed completely at ease and relaxed, Blaine could see snippets of a Kurt that he only heard about in stories from his family. Occasionally Kurt would snark at him, or, more commonly, David, who tended to tease him good-naturedly a lot. There were other times when he would overthrow Andrew's thoughts on whatever topic they were discussing (usually what Andrew should buy his girlfriend or where on a date) and give him a look that clearly said "You are beneath me" that Blaine found fascinating. Little snippets, all that usually disappeared within a few minutes that hinted at a Kurt Blaine had not had the privilege of meeting, and sort of wanted to. He loved Kurt as he was, and always would. But still, he was a bit curious about the fire he knew was but a little ember within him.

Kurt nodded, a movement Blaine felt more than saw. "I was planning on telling you anyway. Are you busy lunchtime?"

"I'm free," Blaine agreed quickly. "I'm done researching for my presentation. How do you plan on occupying my time?"

Kurt sat up then, and Blaine wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close into his frame. Blaine wasn't fooled; he knew that the change in position was one that would give Kurt the freedom to hide his face as he wanted while speaking. His voice was oddly shy when he spoke next, "Can you meet me in Senior Comms lunchtime then?"

The request was an odd one, and Blaine stared at the top of his head for a long moment consequently. The room was Warbler territory and so it wasn't uncommon for them to utilise it as they pleased. But, this was the first time that Kurt had ever actively expressed a desire to go there.

Kurt," Blaine inquired carefully, "what is going on?" He was starting to wonder if he should place a call to Finn, something Kurt seemed to sense because he looked up suddenly, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he reached over to grasp a bit of Kurt's blazer carefully.

"Blaine, please," he whispered, the barest hint of panic in his eyes besides the tiredness.

Blaine understood then; his boyfriend only wanted his quick, unwavering obedience in this, and, not wanting to upset him any further than he had managed already, he nodded, stymieing his curiosity for now.

"Okay," he agreed. "Can you promise me one thing though Kurt? Can you swear to me that this is not detrimental, or truly hurting you in any way?"

Kurt laughed, a bit hysterically in Blaine's opinion, but he shook his head roughly despite that, before pressing it against Blaine's shoulder.

"It's nothing detrimental Blaine," he promised, borrowing his word. "Please don't worry. I'll tell you all at lunch time, either way. I swear. I want to, but I'm not quite ready just yet, and I don't think we have enough time yet. So please, just wait for me till lunchtime."

His ramble did nothing to reassure Blaine, but he knew that Kurt was right. If he wanted to get him warmed up and caffeinated before his first class, they would have to leave here now. As much as he didn't like it, Blaine accepted that this would truly have to wait.

The universe was kind today, Kurt thought, from his spot at the piano. An emergency in the office had ended his Government class prematurely, and, while the rest of his classmates had poured out into the grounds to enjoy this surprising forty minutes of freedom, Kurt had simply fetched an iced-coffee from the nearest vending machine before heading here to the Commons Room. It had been thankfully empty when he had arrived - that was not something he had not even considered when he had asked Blaine to meet him here at lunch. Kurt felt bad; despite all he had said, he had seen the way that his boyfriend had kept shooting worried glances his way that morning, and had not missed the way he had stopped to have a soft conversation with Trent after he had dropped him off. The taller, burly Warbler had spent the two classes they shared observing him and, in an act Kurt was a lot more appreciative of, helping deflect the teacher's attention away from Kurt whenever the tiredness grew to be too much and he needed just a few minutes to have a micro-nap to recharge just a bit. It wasn't as if Kurt had been afraid of getting into trouble; he was afraid of getting sent to the Nurse's station immediately or worse, home.

He was the school's baby, something that at times left him feeling loved, and at other times annoyed him endlessly. Everyone kept an eye out on him, and any deviation from the standard sent up red flags. He appreciated their concern; he truly did. Having a school and populace that actually gave a damn about him was quite the eye-opening experience, but, at times, like this, it was overwhelming. Everyone was entitled to a less than stellar day without it having to spiral into a monumental crisis right? He thought that at least.

Kurt sighed, trying to rid himself of such thoughts, and, in a more futile attempt, of the tiredness he was feeling now. It had been so long since he had suffered from a lack of sleep to this extent and it definitely was getting to him, lowering his defences on a day when he definitely needed them up. His fingers, almost absentmindedly danced along some of the keys, producing a simple melody. Piano was something he had done up until high school; after that he had just lost the zeal for it although his teacher had claimed he had been quite good at it. His dad hadn't even been that surprised. After all, Kurt had been all gung-ho about ballet, and that had been given up as well when he had hit middle school. In hindsight he had saved himself a lot more pain that way...

Kurt sighed, his fingers clanging down noisily as he bent so that he could lean his head against the edge of the piano, breathing in deeply. He still wasn't sure what he should do. Was he making himself a victim unnecessarily? Was there really a way past all of the doubts and uncertainties he had, and could it be plausible that a single, otherwise insignificant decision like this could be the remedy to all that he was dealing with now? Kurt didn't even know.

With a sniff, he straightened, reached out and plopped his right hand onto the keys. He removed the leather glove he used for protection, dropping it onto his lap for now as he observed his fingers. They were only trembling faintly today, and, his body had seemingly given him a reprieve because the pain was little more than a persistent annoyance - one he had actually grown accustomed to and so could ignore in favour of the environment around him.

Some would say he was lucky. After all, look at Artie. Artie would never walk, but he didn't let his disability hold him back, did he? But, then again, Kurt thought darkly, it wasn't as if Artie had had ambitions to be a professional dancer. He sighed again, the words of all those who cared about him, as well as the medical professionals, resonating within him. Everyone else seemed to have a lot more faith in him than he did for himself.

All of them kept telling him that losing his arm's function was not the worst thing in the world, and now that he was in this stage of 'healing' (a term he still found dubious) they kept telling him to work hard, persevere and keep the faith that anything would be possible. But Kurt couldn't see it, couldn't believe it. He had stored all his hope in his vision of leaving Lima and never looking back. Now that he had had those dreams crushed, he was afraid, truly afraid of daring to dream about anything else. Except, Kurt thought, he wasn't the kind to just give into fear - at least he didn't use to be. He was the one who used to stride through McKinley with confidence, putting down the jocks with cutting remarks even as they dumpster dumped him. He was the one who argued against any seeming injustices against himself and his friends. All that he had seen the night before returned to him, and, surprisingly, given how many tears he had shed the night before, he felt his eyes prickling again. Was that Kurt gone? Was the Kurt that Mr Shue had unknowingly saved from suicide by opening the Glee club once again the only person he was allowed to be now? The one who was meek and often quiet, who just went through the motions of the day clinging to brief moments of comfort and love he had access to?

"I don't want to be him," Kurt whispered, his voice watery, "I don't want to be him again. I don't want to be him anymore," he added, his voice gaining just the tiniest of strength.

He glared at his hand, and at his trembling fingers, uncaring of the tears that were slipping loose. "I don't want to be a victim all my life. I rather be a survivor." Kurt didn't know what pushed him to, but he concentrated, pouring every single ounce of himself into his hand, looking, concentrating, willing. And then it happened.

It was just one tiny movement, but Kurt's index finger lifted briefly before falling back down. Kurt made a sound that was half way between a sob and a cry of victory, as, with a next burst of pure effort, he managed the movement again, this time holding the finger up for several seconds before his body regained its control and it fell down limply. It didn't matter though. If only for five seconds, Kurt had taken control. He wasn't a victim, truly he wasn't. He leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of his elbow as he cried; now not out of sadness or misery, but out of pure relief.

Kurt had mostly gotten his emotions back under fragile rein by the time the school bell signalled the beginning of lunch time. He knew that, given how worried he had made his boyfriend, that he would have probably minutes at best before Blaine reached here. There would be no hiding the fact that he had been crying, and so Kurt had settled for just using his handkerchief to dab at his face as best as he could and try to clear his throat ever so often, both as a warm up and to just not sound entirely weepy. He still had one more hurdle to climb over before he could call it quits for the day. He was feeling tired, so very tired, and he had already mostly decided to go to the nurse's office after this and just nap until the school day ended.

Kurt was just about done shoving his handkerchief back into a pocket when the door opened and Blaine entered. Kurt straightened, offering him a semblance of a smile. It failed though to do anything except increase his boyfriend's anxiety however, before his face reflected immediate concern.

"Poppet?" Blaine asked worriedly, dropping his bag and hurrying across the room. Kurt almost stopped him from doing it, but the promise of comfort was too great and he allowed himself to sink into Blaine's embrace, breathing in his scent, letting it give him strength. A part of him berated himself for it, telling him that he had grown too dependent on everyone and that, in this moment, he should stand forward on his own two feet. The other part of him though forcibly reminded him that strength did not negate the need for affection, and so he allowed Blaine to just hold him for a good while before he pulled back.

"I've done nothing but worry you so far today," he told him softly, with a sniffle.

Blaine's hands move so that they are on his arms, just resting lightly. "Kurt, please speak to me. What can I do to help?"

That was his boyfriend, Kurt thought fondly. He was ready to solve a problem he knew nothing about.

"I love you," Kurt told him, and reached forward to steal a kiss. "I-" he broke off, and lowered his head to take a shuddering breath. "I just need you to listen to me, okay? I think you'll understand by the end."

"Okay," Blaine said, although his voice still reflected confusion and more than a little concern.

Kurt sighed, and decided that, for the moment, perhaps, keeping his eyes close was best. It took him three times to actually get his voice to work, although, even to his own ears when he begun, it sounded weak and uncertain. He wasn't even completely certain what he would sing when his lips parted; he had originally thought of using Blaine's song. But instead "Something has changed within me, something is not the same," escaped him, and in that moment, he realised that "Defying Gravity" was perhaps, indeed, his best option.

He felt the way Blaine's hands suddenly tightened, but he pressed on, knowing that to stop would break him. He instead focussed on all the feelings within him, all the uncertainties, doubts and desires, and tried to push that into his words. His voice grew more steady, the words gaining weight so that, by the time he finished the first chorus, he could feel it within him, that Kurt who knew how to dominate.

As he continued, he lifted his head and opened his eyes, seeing and yet not seeing Blaine as he continued. He wasn't only singing to him, he realised, he was singing to his family and friends as well, letting them know that he was and would be okay. He didn't even worry anymore if his voice would be affected from months of disuse. Just like with his finger, he simply willed his voice to obey the feelings within him, and all doubts melted away. As the song reached its crescendo he hit the high notes with the same ease he hit the low ones, his voice now soaring as he sang the final words and a silence descended.

There was silence, a deep, heavy fog of silence that was interrupted only by his own ragged breathing as he tried to catch his breath…and the sound of quiet weeping. Kurt blinked, the room refocusing completely, and it was only then that he realised that it was Blaine who was now quietly crying as he looked at him.

"B-Blaine?" Kurt said anxiously, wondering at the reaction.

"K-Kurt," was all the older teenager managed before his hands moved again and Kurt found himself once again crushed into Blaine's form in a hug that was tight and secure.

It was the first time that Kurt had experienced Blaine crying, and the sound of it inevitably led to a few tears on his part as well. He clung to his boyfriend, feeling the emotions radiating off him, feeling the ones emanating from himself. He wasn't even aware of when they both slid down so that they were seated on the floor, still cradling each other, Blaine's head resting on his shoulder as the teenager slowly regained control. It took him a minute or so after that to pull back and to look at him. Kurt was a bit stunned to see nothing but love, affection and pride shining in his slightly reddened eyes, even as he reached out with the end of his sleeve to wipe at his tears, Blaine returning the favour right after.

"Was I that bad?" he asked in a shaky voice, trying to draw a laugh.

Blaine did indeed barked out one, looking away for a moment as he shook his head before looking back at him. "I'm sorry poppet, but... you moved me, you moved me in a way I've never felt before. Kurt, I was not ... holy cow... there were so many things going through my head for the entire morning about what could be wrong. Never could I guess you were just building up the courage to do this.

"I know how much singing meant to you Kurt. And to hear you sing out like that, and so beautifully…it moved me in a way I did not think possible. You made me fall in love with you all over again."

Kurt's cheeks flushed a dark red in embarrassment, even as a part of him cheered at the praise. Blaine's opinion mattered most to him after all. "So you liked it?"

The older teenager laughed again, reaching over to cup his cheek. "Kurt Elizabeth, the word to describe how I felt about that has not been made yet. Thank you for granting me such a wonderful privilege."

"You sparked it," Kurt admitted, leaning into the touch.

"Me?"

"I wanted to help you. But to help you, I had to help me first."

Blaine looked at him for a moment oddly, as if trying to decipher what he was saying. Kurt saw the moment he comprehended, for his eyes widened. "Poppet, you-" he broke off for a moment, closing the small distance to kiss Kurt's forehead. "You put yourself through that for me?"

"You needed a counter-tenor," he returned, warmed by the kiss, "And, if you think I'm worthy enough to share your Gran's song with, you have one?"

Kurt ended his statement as a question, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. He knew what that song meant to Blaine and he didn't want to colour it in any way either.

Blaine's eyes softened further, if that was even possible. "Kurt," he whispered, moving so that their lips were only a hair's breadth apart, "you're the one I want to share everything with."

"Gentlemen," Blaine said loudly that afternoon, from his spot in the centre of the room, "I have an announcement."

"Don't tell me you're transferring schools," Andrew said with a moan, "because if that's what you're going to say, I vote for the make-out plan after all."

Blaine laughed although he did turn to where Kurt was seated in his usual spot and waggled his eye-brows in a way that caused the teenager to roll his eyes affectionately. He looked tired, Blaine thought briefly, but after all, it had been quite an exhausting day for them both - an emotional rollercoaster if you would. But it would all be ending in a few minutes. They just had to get through this bit, and Kurt could head home to a well deserved tenure in his bed.

"Nothing so drastic, I'm afraid," Blaine retorted. "My lords Councilmen," he said then, turning and offering a mock bow to Wes, Thad and David who just shook their heads while waiting to see what all of this was about, "I have the solution to our dilemma."

That caught the attention of everyone.

"What are you talking about Blaine?" Wes asked suspiciously.

"You haven't made one of the freshmen an eunuch, right?" David added.

"Of course not," Blaine protested, "but, what I have done is found myself a duet partner, so you three can let Crawford know that their assistance in that venture will no longer be required."

A stunned silence descended in the room at that point. "Blaine," Wes said finally, "what have you done?"

Blaine gave him a roughish grin, before addressing all of them. "I will admit, this is a bit unorthodox, but I'm going to ask you all for your indulgence. Can we put aside Warbler conventions for a few minutes? There is someone who needs an audition if this is to work."

"Who's the person?" Jeff asked.

Blaine didn't answer. Instead, he walked over to where Kurt was seated, mildly amused by the level of his theatrics before holding out his hand to him. He pulled him to his feet carefully, and bent to press a gallant kiss to his hand before pulling him forward. "Kurt?" he said then, gesturing to the room whose occupants expressions ranged widely.

Kurt huffed a little, but decided that for all the stress he had caused him that morning, he could play along with Blaine's little game.

"Hello," he said, giving them all a small smile, "my name is Kurt Hummel and I'm auditioning both to become a member of the Warblers, and, to be this doofus' duet partner."


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine was on cloud nine – had been since that day that had gone down in his personal history when his boyfriend, the one and only magnificent Kurt Hummel, had sung to him. Not a thing had gone wrong since, and Blaine attributed it all to him; any minor issue could be ignored and no burden seemed troublesome. Kurt had inspired him so much that day that he had managed to pump out three college application essays within a few hours , because, if Kurt could have achieved such a milestone, then there was nothing to hold him back as well. He wanted to keep pace with Kurt, and throwing himself full force behind all his endeavours seemed the best way forward. On the occasions when he was not focussing on himself, he spent that time doting on his boyfriend, easing him into active Warbler life in a way that would not make him regret his decision.

Kurt's focus was to be solely on his duet with Blaine – no one else expected more from him at the moment, and Kurt was perfectly okay with that. They had all agreed to let him and Kurt work out the details of their performance, something they were grateful for because Kurt was still transitioning into having the council working with him in an official capacity, and not simply seeing them as Blaine's friends. Kurt's behaviour in his first official meeting had not changed much. He was his usual quiet self, curled up in his preferred spot. Occasionally he offered an opinion, most notably on suggestions for ways in which they could subtly alter their uniforms in the spirit of Christmas. After that, he had returned to his conversation with Andrew; nothing really had changed.

Blaine stretched his arms behind him, sighing in relief at the pleasant sensation. It was early morning, barely six am. He had a rather crucial exam during second period, and so, Blaine had gotten himself up at half four for a last minute revision session. Now though, he was left with half an hour before the breakfast hall opened, and an hour after that until Kurt would arrive. He sighed, closing his books and wandering what he could do to pass the time.

"You're dressed already?"

Blaine turned, slightly surprised to see Wes standing in his open doorway, rubbing a hand sleepily against his neck. "Yeah," he answered, "cramming."

"It wouldn't do to drop below you're A plus average," Wes teased, even as he dropped down onto Blaine's unmade bed with a large yawn.

"Says the guy who fights me for first in the year," Blaine retorted with a small smile.

Wes didn't respond, instead squirming into a more comfortable position and closing his eyes. Blaine looked at him fondly for a moment before, quietly, packing up his things. Once that was done, he picked up his current novel, planning on just planning the time quietly that way. Wes didn't have a first class this morning; he could enjoy sleeping in. He was thus jolted though, when Wes, eyes still closed, spoke.

"Mr. Rochford submitted our proposal yesterday morning."

"For the concert?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm," came the sleepy response. "I was surprised though."

"By what?"

"They shut down any possibilities for further amendments," he said, rolling over to his side and lazily opening his eyes to look at him. "Crawford has to accept the deal as is, or leave it. You and Kurt will be singing the duet. We'll both have a solo performance and a group performance, and we'll all coordinate for a closing show group number. Crawford can do a duet of their own if they want to, but we're not going to involved."

Blaine was a bit surprised like that. It wasn't like Mr. Rochford to issue iron clad mandates like that, especially when the two groups were still basically in negotiation mode. "I'm glad though. I wouldn't want anything further complications. Kurt doesn't need the stress."

"I don't think you're getting what I'm saying, Blaine," Wes told him. "Mr. Rochford told Crawford yesterday morning and their girls had practice in the evening. How do you think little Miss Princess would have taken the news?"

Blaine swore then, something not quite characteristic for him, but given the situation it was required. He frowned, his good humour of the past few days instantly fading. "I didn't even consider how she'd react," he admitted. "You don't think..."

Wes shot him a look. "That's why I'm telling you this Blaine. I wouldn't put it past her to show up here eventually to complain about this. What you need to do is decide if you and Kurt want to be here when it happens. I gave you guys the leeway to practice separately for a reason you know."

"Always thinking ahead," Blaine responded with a slight smile.

Wes nodded, his expression softening. "Neither you nor Kurt deserve to have to deal with Priscilla, especially after all she did last year. I don't want her around you or Kurt anymore than necessary, especially now Kurt's officially ours. If you want out of the joint group number, that's fine. None of us will grudge you that."

Blaine didn't say anything to that, instead letting his mind drift back to the previous year. He barely restrained a shudder at the thought of what could have happened. The silence lingered for a moment, before Wes, attempting to lighten the mood, said "Did I mention recently how glad we all are that Kurt's joined?"

That instantly brought a smile back to Blaine's face. "Your expressions when he sang," he said jovially, "he blew you guys away."

"He did," Wes agreed. "I knew he could sing, but wow, I didn't expect that from him. I'm so glad we got to see that, that he was comfortable enough to sing for us."

"Me too. It was a surprise for me as well you know. I didn't even know he was a counter-tenor until that lunchtime. Maybe someday I can get him to perform "Defying Gravity" for you guys to hear; it's mind blowing."

"He's a great addition to our group," Wes said happily, "and it kind of explains why McKinley never really used him in competition. With female voices already in the group, it'd be hard to have worked him in. Not impossible mind you, but maybe it was a hassle their director just didn't want to deal with."

"Finn would know," Blaine said with a slight shrug, "Kurt still doesn't talk about his old glee club that much."

"I am a bit worried though, Blaine," Wes told him. "Do you think Kurt is ready? To perform in front of a crowd, I mean? I don't want this to be too much pressure for him, you know?"

Blaine nodded in understanding. "I really haven't given that much thought. I've just been so happy that he's singing again and with me. But...you have a point. I don't even know if he's considered that fact. He was attacked on stage...does the memory of that still bother him?"

"We'll only know once we get him on it for rehearsals," Wes said, "and that won't be till the week before when they erect it on the grounds. Maybe..."

"Maybe?" Blaine pressed.

Wes sighed. "I like Kurt, Blaine, and I don't mean to not trust the kid. But, maybe we should consider making a backup plan here?"

Blaine considered it for a moment before nodding. "A contingency plan doesn't sound too bad at all. We'll tell Kurt though, so he knows that he still has a way out; that he doesn't have to feel obligated to do it if it comes to that. And it's only fair to him. I won't have him thinking that I doubt his ability. I think he'd do great, I _know_ he would, but...you're right, we should have a second option. It'd probably get me back in Finn's good graces," he added with a dry chuckle.

"What?" Wes asked, confused.

"Finn called me Sunday night and sort of chewed me out," Blaine said with a shrug. "He doesn't think Kurt performing again is a good idea. He doesn't think he's ready for it, and I think he feels that Kurt is doing it to please me. He thinks I've pressured him somehow and he's not at all happy. If I tell him that there's an alternative, he may forgive me."

"That's not fair," Wes noted. "You're not forcing Kurt into anything."

"I know that," he responded, "but I can understand where Finn is coming from to a certain extent. He's worried about Kurt, that if he doesn't manage this, he'll have a set back or that the pressure of practicing and what not will set him back anyway."

"I guess we've got to remember that we never dealt with Kurt in the early days," Wes murmured.

"We do," Blaine agreed. "Kurt doesn't know about that call, by the way. Don't tell him?"

"I won't," he agreed. "Anyway, I should go get changed. Give me a few minutes and then we'll head for food okay?"

"Okay."

Kurt sensed Blaine's growing unease as the day progressed. He had been pretty normal for the majority of the day, but when school ended, and, he was curled under Blaine's arm as they walked around for a bit before heading over to the Warbler meeting, Kurt sensed a growing sense of discomfort in his boyfriend.

"Blaine?" he asked softly, looking up at him as they walked, trusting him not to lead him astray, "what's wrong?"

Blaine instantly became more attentive, looking at him affectionately, "My mind's just a bit far. How are you feeling? Nothing's becoming overwhelming right?"

Kurt shook his head, snuggling in the slightest bit closer. "I'm fine, Blaine. Don't worry. I promised you, didn't I? I'll tell you when it all becomes too much."

"What did your doctor say when you told her?"

Kurt didn't answer for a moment, trying to decide on what he wanted to say. "I think she was pleased," he said eventually, "but...she wants me to up my anxiety medication on the days we have to practice just in case."

Unfortunately for Kurt, Blaine immediately caught the implied message. "Poppet…" he said, letting the pet name hang.

Kurt sighed. "We aren't planning on doing more than talk today," he replied, mostly hedging.

Blaine was silent for a moment. He stopped walking, and gently pulled Kurt so that he was in front of him. Blaine seemed to be in the midst of a growth spurt, because, whereas they were the same height when they had met, his boyfriend was now about an inch taller than him, and, recalling Blaine's parents, he knew that his brother and father at least, were pretty tall men. The result was Kurt actually had to raise his head a bit to look at Blaine who scanned his eyes searchingly. After a moment he huffed out a breath before reaching out to almost roughly ruffle Kurt's hair for a moment. "I am trusting you to know your limits, Kurt," he told him seriously, "please don't disappoint me."

Kurt nodded, pleased that Blaine had not simply asked him to medicate himself. "I will," he promised. He understood the woman's rationale, but he really did not like the idea of pre-medicating himself. Perhaps, he mused as they resumed their walk, this time slowly working their way to the building for practice, he should have been a bit more honest with the woman and have told her the motivation behind what he wanted. He wanted to start pushing himself a bit more, to actively take control of his body, emotions and mind. He didn't want the crutch of medication. If he could try to control himself first, that was preferred. But, he also knew his limitations. He was not lying to Blaine; if he felt that it was too much, he would pop a pill into his mouth.

Blaine though seemed to return to his preoccupied self as the silence stretched between them, not uncomfortably, it rarely was, but Kurt couldn't help but observe him again. Blaine noticed this time, and the smile he shot him was almost absentminded. Eventually, they were inside the building and heading towards the staircase that led to the second floor. Blaine stopped them at the foot of it, once again turning Kurt to him.

"I've asked for a lot from you today already Kurt," he told him seriously. "But there's one more thing I have to ask of you."

"What is it?"

"Can you promise me that, just for the next few practices that you'd stay near either me or Andrew?"

Kurt stared at his boyfriend, confused. It was an odd request to say the least. But, Blaine rarely asked anything of him and so, although it was strange, he nodded. "Why?"

"It's just a pre-caution," he murmured, cuddling him close for a moment, although Kurt got the impression that he was taking more comfort for himself than offering Kurt affection.

Blaine gave a small sigh then, before taking Kurt's right hand into his. Kurt concentrated, and after a moment smiled. Perhaps it was mostly his imagination, but he was pretty certain that he was indeed feeling the faintest warmth and pressure. He was feeling Blaine, and he loved it.

The pleasant haze of his most recent realisation left him though as they reached the closed doors of the practice room. Someone was shouting and the voice was most definitely female.

Blaine froze instantly. Startled, Kurt looked at him and immediately his nerves were on edge. Blaine's entire body radiated tension, and a quick glance down showed Kurt that he was indeed gripping his hand tightly. His face though...Kurt was not entirely certain but there was definitely more than anger in Blaine's expression now; there was also disgust and just the faintest trace of...fear? Kurt, in that moment had a firm idea of who that female shouting was, and a flame of anger stroked within him. Just what the hell had this Priscilla done to make Blaine react this way?

"Blaine?" he said, and instantly, Blaine's eyes were on him.

"Go to the library, poppet," Blaine told him firmly, releasing his arm, "Or you can go on home if you prefer. You drove today didn't you? So, go ahead home. I'll call you later."

Kurt swallowed. Blaine was using that no-nonsense tone again, and while he was accustomed to well, obeying, he didn't want to this time. He knew that Blaine was trying to protect him, wanted to spare him from the commotion that was happening, especially since he knew now that Kurt had not bothered to take his medication. It was probably the best move, and Kurt himself felt a slight tension curl within him that was not naturally occurring. But, Kurt also knew that Blaine was for some reason afraid of this girl, and he didn't want him to go there alone.

"Come with me?" he offered. "You don't need to go in there."

Blaine's lips quirked. "Someone else told me that today," he murmured, before shaking his head. "I'm the cause of this. I should fix it."

"Then I'm coming with you," Kurt responded.

"Kurt, I can handle this."

"And so can I," he told him, trying to keep his tone firm and determined. "We fight our battles together, okay. No prissy princess is going to keep us down."

Blaine seemed conflicted for a second more, but then the shouting reached a next level, with a few other female voices joining in now, and Blaine swore, surprising Kurt. "She brought backup," he grumbled. "You really shouldn't stay Kurt."

Kurt pursed his lips, before squaring his shoulders. Before Blaine could realise what he was going to do, Kurt stepped forward and opened the door. There was no going back now, he thought, stepping in.

Priscilla basically met the description Kurt had ascribed her from his first conversation regarding her with Blaine. The only real difference was that she was tall - really tall - standing a good three or so inches above him. Kurt scoffed - he wouldn't be surprised if her planned career was a few years being an underwear model. Hopefully she'd come across a pair that would give her crabs. Her voice was fairly irritating; going from it, he would place her in the soprano range, a quality, he acknowledged, that Blaine's rich voice could indeed complement. That was, if he had any intentions of letting her sing with his boyfriend, which he definitely did not. He knew more than felt when Blaine retook his hand, and, briefly glancing at him, he saw the cross look the older teenager shot him. Undoubtedly Blaine would want to scold him for that later, he thought with wry amusement before re-focussing on the scene before them.

Their entrance had gone unnoticed by the girl. She was dressed in Crawford's uniform, and briefly Kurt allowed himself to be surprised by how...dull it was. He had truly figured that they just wore skirts instead of pants but otherwise mimicked Dalton's uniform since they were, after all, the sister school. They, it seemed, had gotten the short end of the fashion stick. There were three other girls with her, two of which were arguing in less heated tones with Andrew and Thad. The third just stood there stiffly, her eyes taking in the commotion. Priscilla's voice was the loudest, and Kurt quirked a brow as she heard her say, almost viciously that she would have them all expelled for daring to interfere with her concert. Entitled much? Beside Wes, David glanced over, his eyes widening when he saw them. He motioned to the door and made a shooing gesture, telling them to get out and get out _now_. Kurt shook his head; Blaine though seemed more inclined to obey, and opened his mouth to say just that when the girl seemed to catch David's movement and spun in their direction.

There was something seriously wrong with her, Kurt realised immediately, and not in a normal way. There was an edge to her eyes that he had seen before, a wildness in her gaze that he recognised from his time around mental health patients when he was back in his more darker phase. Perhaps the Warblers did not see it, but Priscilla really was trouble. And, when, seconds after her eyes landed on Blaine, her entire demeanour melted into one that could only be described as bubble-pop school girl, Kurt thought with dread that this budding psycho had a fixation - Blaine.

She fairly skipped over to where they stood. Blaine, protectively, stepped forward and sort of pulled Kurt behind him. He didn't allow himself to be fully hidden though. All traces of anger seemed to have evaporated from her. Her tone now was almost sickly sweet when she spoke. "Blainey-bear, you're here! No one would tell me where you were."

"Hello Priscilla," Blaine said flatly, looking up at her. "I didn't think that the two clubs would be meeting so soon."

"Well," she replied, bending her head down, "there seems to be some sort of misunderstanding that I just _had_ to clear up. Apparently," she said, flipping her hair before turning to shoot a glare at the council, " _some_ people are under the impression that you and I won't be singing together, and I figured we needed to get that straightened out immediately. After all Blainey-bear, we've got to start practicing as soon as possible. We need to be perfect on stage."

She moved to touch him, but Blaine stepped back, Kurt moving in tandem with him.

Blaine's discomfort seemed to increase with every movement she made closer to him, something that set Kurt on edge as well.

"There's been no misunderstanding, Priscilla," he told her in that same level voice. "I have a duet partner from the Warblers. I'm sorry that you thought that that information was inaccurate."

Kurt flinched when her pleasant demeanour cracked and she sneered, actually sneered before seeming to collect herself. "Blainey," she whined, drawing out the name, "don't be silly. I arranged all of this to make sure that we got to carry on our tradition. It's our senior year. When are we going to get the chance to do this again?"

"Priscilla-"

"Besides," she continued, speaking over him, "I know you're just trying to be funny and pulling my leg, Blainey-bear. I heard that this partner," she said making quotes in the air, "is just some crippled stray Dalton took in for charity. But that's-"

"Don't you dare insult my boyfriend," Blaine shouted and Kurt flinched again, this time pulling away from Blaine himself and taking a few steps back. The shout and the tenseness...that tiny kernel of discomfort from before was now igniting further.

His moving caught her attention, and like a hawk she easily saw him over Blaine. "Is that the little mongrel," she said, venom dripping from her voice as once against the mask of pleasantness fell. Kurt swallowed, unnerved by that crazy look in her eyes once again, and briefly he acknowledged that perhaps he really should not have come in here after all. "I thought we had talked about this Blaine," she continued, although her eyes never left Kurt, "and this little _problem_ you have. It doesn't matter; we'll just have to fix it. It would have been solved if the little Asian didn't interrupt us the last time but-"

"You bitch!"

Surprisingly that shout came from Wes, who had nearly reached them. David grabbed both of his arms, restraining him.

"I still haven't decided how I'm going to deal with you," she shot back at him, not at all concerned, "but first, I think I'll have to deal with this one."

"Stay away from him," Blaine ordered, stepping into her part when she meant to bypass him.

"Move Blaine," she snapped, "Let me deal with the little faggot and then I'll fix you."

It was that word that did it - "faggot". Kurt had heard it too many times in his life, that horrendous slur meant to insult him for whom he happened to be born as. He had heard it that day too, numerous times. It was meant to degrade and break him, to make him feel that he was sub-human. She wanted to hurt him; she wanted to break him, and she wanted to do the same to Blaine. Kurt's anxiety started morphing into a next emotion, a more explosive one. He didn't care what she had to say about him; she'd be just one more person who tried to harm him. But her trying to fix his Blaine? The fact that she had already tried to hurt him? That, he would not stand for. Kurt's fear, in that moment, channelled into pure, molten anger. And, when she repeated the slur, this time questioning how much he even knew about Blaine, and how he delude Blaine into claiming had a relationship when she and him had been in one for years, he snapped.

She managed to bypass Blaine by shoving him and he lost it. "Don't you dare put your slimy, overgrown man hands on my boyfriend you whiny, pretentious crazy ass witch!" he growled, stepping forward, no longer unnerved by her height advantage. "Is this how you get your way, screaming like a banshee or flirting like a two dollar whore? He doesn't want you, he's _never_ wanted you. So why don't you do us all a favour and just crawl back into the sewer you flushed out of and leave us alone."

There was a stunned silence in the room, interspaced only by someone (probably Andrew) saying "When did Kurt grow claws?"

She gaped at him, and Kurt wondered if anyone had ever stood up to her in her life.

"How dare you speak to me like that you little fag-"

"Faggot," he said in tandem with her, "That's the best you can do, call the little cripple a faggot. But, let me tell you something princess, this faggot right here has everything you want doesn't he. And that kills you princess, knowing that no matter how much you simper, connive or flutter those fake lashes at him, Blaine isn't going to choose you. He doesn't want anything to do with your over tanned, box-blonde self and you're just too stupid or too crazy to understand that. You want Blaine? Well then go grow a penis and then try swinging back. Except that won't work either psycho because he is mine, and I am never, _ever_ letting him go. So you better keep that in mind the next time you say he's yours. Because, I can show you just how low class I can be. I don't needs to be from Lima Heights Adjacent to handle you, so, bring it."

Later on, Kurt would be amazed (and more than a little embarrassed) that he had basically channelled Santana and Puck in his tirade, but for now, all that mattered was the fact that she was just staring at him, aghast.

Kurt heard the sound of harsh breathing, and only after a few seconds did he realise that the ragged, rapidly increasing inhalations was coming from him. His body was shaking, and despite the anger still coursing through him, he felt a flare of panic, knowing that he only had a little time before he was struck by a full on attack. He simply was not used to processing this wealth of emotions anymore. Priscilla suddenly straightened, and whipped around, looking at Blaine who seemed both stunned and yet at the same time moved by Kurt's words. He froze though when her eyes landed back on him.

"I'm sorry Blainey-bear," she told him, "but it seems like I'm going to need a higher dose this time to fix what this thing has done to you. In private this time, away from Wesley."

Kurt saw red in that moment as the implications of her words hit him, even as, from his periphery, he saw Thad join David in his efforts to hold Wes back. Blaine though - Blaine in that moment turned ashen, and for the first time in his life, Kurt understood why sometimes violence needed to be the answer to certain dilemmas.

Before he could even settle on a course of action, he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder before he was pulled backwards and an arm wrapped around his chest. "You're one step away from hyperventilating," Mr. Kentwood said firmly. "Calm down, now."

He wasn't alone. Turning his head, Kurt saw Mrs Braithwaite, Blaine's home room teacher standing by him, even as the vice principal, Mr. Samuels, a tall, dark man in his fifties stood before Priscilla who, Kurt saw, was now trying her best to fall back into her persona, but was seemingly having great difficulty in doing so.

Phillip, a sophomore Warbler stepped into the room behind them, and Kurt rationalised that he must have already gone for help before he and Blaine had arrived. Kurt felt all the adrenaline leave him and he slumped fully against his teacher, only now aware of the pain in his chest, the way he was all out trembling and the spots that suddenly were dancing before him. "Mr. Kentwood," he gasped out, "my-"

Somehow though, Blaine was already by him, rifling through his pocket. He pulled out two packets of tablets, and Kurt watched dazedly as he swiftly looked between the two, settling on the stronger, emergency capsules. He popped two into Kurt's mouth.

"Bite them Kurt," he bid, and Kurt listened, not even able to grimace as the bitter taste filled his mouth. They would be absorbed quicker that way.

Mr. Kentwood then moved, scooping him up before carrying him to a nearby couch and sitting him there, pushing his head down between his knees before crouching down and began speaking to him in low, even tones, trying to get him to calm his breathing enough until the medication could kick in and artificially do it for him.

As much as Blaine wanted to just stay there with Kurt, he knew he would be in safe hands with his teacher. Besides, Priscilla was still there, alternating between snapping at the vice principal and trying to cajole. He wasn't having any of it.

"Mr. Samuels," Blaine said, coming over, not noticing how tired and hoarse his voice sounded. His home room teacher reappeared by his side, laying a comforting hand on his arm.

"Come away, Blaine," she told him softly, "leave her to him."

"Blaine," Priscilla called out. "Come here and explain to the nice man here that this is just a big misunderstanding. That fa- that boy just started yelling at me and-"

"Enough, Ms. Hemmings," Mr. Samuels interjected smoothly, "you and your friends have no authorisation to be in Dalton at the moment and are therefore trespassing."

"Blaine invited me," she protested, "just ask him."

"I will be speaking to Mr. Anderson," he said smoothly, "and Mr. Montgomery as well about your apparent efforts to _fix_ him that, as far as I know, the school is unaware of." The man glanced back then, shooting Blaine a speaking look that had him swallowing, even as he turned away, content to let his teacher fuss over him for a while. After all, he was shaking pretty badly now, and, looking around, he could see that all of the Warblers looked pretty upset, some surrounding Kurt, others hovering around near him. Wes currently was sharing an armchair with David who still had an arm on him.

Wes' eyes never left Priscilla as he finally spoke. "We'll speak to you sir," he agreed, his voice still radiating anger. "If we had done that from the start, all of this could have been avoided."

He wasn't accusing him of anything, Blaine saw, when briefly, Wes looked at him. He was simply stating a fact that Blaine was starting to see was true. This could have been avoided, but he hadn't had the foresight last year to see that it would have escalated into this.

"Let's go, ladies," the vice principal commanded, grasping Priscilla's elbow to lead her out, the other girls docilely following. He paused long enough at the door to say "Boys, I think you all should just call it a day," and, as Blaine separated from his teacher to go to Kurt who was now seated upright, with eyes decidedly dazed, Blaine agreed.

It had been quite the eventful day.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt hadn't seen Blaine until that weekend. It wasn't really by choice. His parents had basically refused to send him back to school for the rest of the week. He was okay with it at first, but by Friday, Kurt was a bit irritated by it. He reminded himself that their actions were done out of love and concern for him, but it was a bit much at times. Besides, he added, it truly would have been useless seeing that Blaine had not been to school either. Well, that was not completely accurate. He had been in school for part of the Thursday, but nor for class. His mother had flown in just for the occasion and Blaine had spent his time in a series of meetings and consultations.

Kurt tapped his fingers anxiously against his knee from his spot at his bay window, looking at the street below. He was a bit anxious; Blaine had called him early that morning, asking if he could come over. He had agreed immediately, and now, he was pretty certain that he was only a few minutes away. Blaine's absence had been painful for him. In recent times, three days without any real sort of conversation between them was monumental. It was only in the absence of it that Kurt realised just how much he appreciated the time they had together. And so, he could barely contain himself as he waited for his boyfriend to arrive.

He knew that it would not be the best of conversations. From Blaine's tone he knew that he would be told everything once he arrived, and Kurt already knew that it would not be anything remotely near a pleasant talk. But, he was okay with that. He wanted to know everything about his boyfriend, the good, the bad and the ugly. He sighed, shifting restlessly as a car that did not belong to Blaine turned onto the street. He was quickly getting nervous, thinking about the implications of Priscilla's words. His mind kept throwing up worse and worse scenarios based on what she could have meant. By the time Blaine finally turned into the driveway, Kurt had broken out into a cold sweat.

Being responsible for once, he got up, knowing that Blaine would be able to let himself in. They had spent so much time at each other's houses during the summer that their respective parents had elevated them from guest status to family. Or at least, he amended, swallowing a pill with some water, his family had. Blaine's parents had not been around that much, especially now that Blaine was technically an adult and didn't need supervision. Capping the bottle and throwing it in the general direction of the table, Kurt dropped back down onto window seat and waited for Blaine to make his way up the steps and to his room.

Blaine was not at all comfortable about the conversation he was about to have. He was also, honestly, a bit scared, but most tired, very tired. Opening Kurt's bedroom door, he had wanted to do nothing more than pull him down onto the bed with him, cuddle him close and fall asleep for about three years, but he owed Kurt more than that. It had been a frustrating time for him recently, and his past, which he had rather not re-hashed had been brought up and thrown at him so many times that he was fed up. Wes had not left him much choice in that regard, opening his mouth and speaking up anything Blaine tried to deflect or even minimise. Inevitably though, the entire truth had come out.

Dropping down beside Kurt with a sigh, Blaine settled for burrowing into his chest for a good few minutes, just breathing in the scent of his precious Kurt, _his_ Kurt, who at least for now, was not judging him. He had never wanted to be a burden on Kurt like this; he wanted to be the strong pillar of strength for Kurt, to help him find his place in the world once again. But, as it turned out, he seemed to be the one who needed to be strength. He had messed so many things up in the past few days.

"It can't be that bad, you know," Kurt whispered to him, placing his chin on top of his head. "Nothing can be that bad, so don't worry okay? Just talk to me."

"It's very bad," Blaine contradicted, even as he pulled back, his voice vulnerable and revealing his inner dilemma.

"Doesn't matter," Kurt whispered, "please don't try to handle this on your own."

"That's what got me into this whole mess," Blaine blurted out, before laughing darkly. "Kurt – I, it's my fault," he admitted. "If only I had said something last year like Wes wanted..."

"What did Priscilla do to you?" Kurt asked, trying indirectly to help steer his thought train.

Thinking about it made Blaine's throat constrict, as, unwillingly, his mind drifted back to the events of that afternoon for what seemed like the umpteenth time recently. This time around though, he didn't feel as judged, or as useless. It was Kurt asking him, Kurt waiting patiently for him to begin. Resultantly, he did not feel the urge to restrict himself and his words. With Kurt, he could be as open with his thoughts and feelings as wanted.

Thinking this, Blaine braced himself and locked up. Looking at Kurt's patient, loving expression, Blaine felt his eyes tear up. Kurt reached out and interlaced their fingers, giving him strength. Kurt didn't speak, something Blaine was grateful for. He didn't need sympathy or encouragement; the simple act of holding his hand was enough.

"She showed up unexpectedly," he began, slipping back into his past. "I mean, the Crawford girls were supposed to be there, but she wasn't. One of them told me that she had some sort of family obligation. But she ended up showing up within half an hour. She said she didn't want to interrupt the group number since Amelia was practising her parts and that it'd just be better if she and I went off together and kept working on the duets. I didn't like it, but there really wasn't anything I could say or do to get out of it, you know? We all knew she had a crush on me and that I didn't like it, but it'd seem really childish of me to just rebuff her like that for such a silly reason. All the other guys were dealing with their issues with the girls who were after them so I told Wes I'd just man up and do the same.

"We weren't supposed to have gone too far away. The next room would have worked just fine to me, but she insisted that we'd get distracted by the sounds of practice next door. So we moved a few classrooms down where she had already had her things set out. I should have found that weird. I didn't. I just saw it as a bit more of her scheming. I could deal with that.

"Anyway, we started practising and it was as awful as always. She was extra flirty, kept touching my arms and what not. Eventually she said she was thirsty. I offered to go get her a drink because it would give me a break after all. But she said she already had drinks with her. She opened her bag and sure enough she had two bottles of juice. She said one was for me, and it seemed really rude to say no, and well, I was also thirsty. When I reached for a bottle, she took it quickly and cracked it open for me saying that she didn't want me to strain myself.

"I was annoyed but took it in stride. I should have realised that there was no cracking sound you hear when the seal is broken, but I didn't really pay attention to that fact. I didn't think that I'd need to...

"I drank it, and well, there was a slight bitter taste, but it was grapefruit juice so I expected it. We kept talking for a few more minutes, and then she started back the flirting. But this time it was different. She was more aggressive, more direct, moving closer and closer to me. I got up from the table we were at and moved to the sofa in the room. I was kind of woozy, but still not enough to be that concerned. And then...it just got weird. She got angry, telling me that I wasn't gay and that it was my mom's fault. She had babied me too much, turned me into a sissy who thought I needed a man to help me. She'd fix that. She sat next to me and started touching me again. I didn't like it, I told her that, but I couldn't really resist anymore. My body just kept sinking down into some kind of fog and my mind just kept whirling back and forth on any and everything. She was the only thing I could really focus on, and even then it was difficult.

"Anything dealing with concentration took such an effort. I think I tried to get up and ended up flopping to the side. She let me and then...then she was on top of me Kurt," Blaine sobbed out, his vision completely obscured by tears.

It was the hardest thing to get out. He had managed to keep his emotions rigid while conversing with the vice-principal. He had only been shaky while telling his mom. But now with Kurt? Blaine broke down. He cried, long and hard for several minutes, not even realising when Kurt tugged his hand so that his head landed against his shoulder. His hands moved instinctively and wrapped around Kurt, and he held him tight like an anchor as he cried out the pain and humiliation he felt while Kurt did nothing except simply be there, silently lending him strength.

Eventually, Blaine's tears slowed to the occasional sniffle, and he turned his head to the side, so that his cheek was now pressed against Kurt's shoulder.

"I couldn't get her off," he continued, voice thick. "I told her stop, that I didn't want to, but I was weak, so weak. She was on top of me. She was kissing me, pulling at my hair, biting at my ear and telling me that I just needed a good fuck with a real woman to set me straight. She would fix me, and then I'd be hers.

"I don't know how long it lasted, but she had my blazer and shirt open and was playing with my chest when...I'm not sure, Wes was there. I wasn't as quiet as she had thought apparently, and Wes had heard my pleas through the door and came in. She didn't even seem guilty. Wes told me that later Kurt. She had glared at him and demanded that he leave, said that we were busy. Wes didn't even need to say a word to me to know that whatever it was that was happening really did not have my consent. He knew that there was no way I would try anything sexual with a girl, especially _her_ and he all but threw her off me.

"It was too much I think. I ended up throwing up on the floor right there and she fled. Wes let her go. Throwing up helped, because by the time he had gotten me all cleaned up, my head had cleared a bit. He was angry, so angry Kurt and he had wanted us to go to a teacher immediately, to have her arrested. I told him no."

"Why?" Kurt inquired, when, after a few minutes Blaine said nothing else.

"Everyone's been asking me that," Blaine whispered, pulling back. "Everyone wants to know why I was so stupid to not say anything. To continue working with her like if nothing ever happened, because she certainly acted like it. She had gone back to the main room, said that I was sick and had left it at that. Wes backed up that claim because I asked him to. How could I admit that I had nearly been raped Kurt? How stupid would I look to say that she had drugged and molested me? I would look so incompetent. Besides, I didn't...I didn't want to get her in trouble. Some stupid part of me thought it was my fault, that maybe if I had been a little more firm in my rejection that she would have gotten the hint. That maybe I shouldn't have isolated us into that one room. That I gave her the wrong idea, had been giving her the wrong idea for years.

"I asked Wes not to tell Kurt, made him swear, and although I know he hated it, he listened to me. I thought that it would be the end of it, that she wouldn't be stupid enough to try for the scenario again, but apparently letting us go through with the concert had given her the wrong idea and she repeated it this year. I made the wrong choice and everyone paid for it."

"It wasn't your fault," Kurt told him, and, looking up, Blaine saw a mixture of sorrow and anger in his boyfriend's eyes. "It's never the victim's fault Blaine."

"It was," he protested. "If I hadn't-"

"If I hadn't been gay I might have two arms now," Kurt interrupted. "If I had only been smart enough to realise being in the auditorium by myself wasn't the best idea, I wouldn't have been attacked. If I hadn't ignored the fact that their abuse had gotten worse I might have had inkling that I was better off staying away from them. Blaine, do you blame me for getting hurt?" Kurt half demanded.

"Of course not," Blaine responded immediately, fervently. "It wasn't your fault."

"And this wasn't yours," Kurt told him firmly. "Maybe you should have told. I don't know. I never told anyone about the fact that his abuse had moved past slushies and insults. But what I do know is that she had planned it, just like he had having that knife. You couldn't' have known she was going to drug you. It's not your fault."

"I don't think I believe that though," Blaine admitted, wiping at his cheeks.

Kurt hesitated, not knowing how or if he could change his mind. Was this how Blaine felt dealing with him, he wondered. "Maybe," he said after a moment, "maybe you should consider getting help. I-I don't think I'm enough to help you." The words hung heavy on his voice as if he was well aware of the irony of what he was saying. Kurt hated every moment of meeting with his psychologist, but he couldn't deny that sometimes, _sometimes_ , it helped.

"Momma's already booked me an appointment," Blaine answered with a dry chuckle. "I don't think she's too happy with me, but she's not happy with Priscilla either."

"What did the school do?"

Blaine shifted positions before answering, moving so that he could pillow his head on Kurt's leg. Kurt responded immediately, dropping his hand down and tangling it into his gel-free curls. "They're considering scrapping the entire performance," he answered softly, closing his eyes. "But, more reasonably, I think they'd settle for Priscilla's cohorts being kicked out of it. She's banned from the school. She's never to set foot on Dalton property again and Mr. Samuels recorded and forwarded everything to her headmistress. Momma wants to press charges," he continued sadly. "That's what I wanted to avoid in the first place, but just like with Westerville High, she says I've lost the right to decide. She also told Copper and my dad. I talked to Cooper this morning about it. I mean Priscilla's family and the Andersons go way back. Cooper doesn't think Momma will go through with pressing charges; it's just a trick to force them into getting Priscilla help. Mental health issues does run in their family...I don't know if you noticed, but she's kind of...unhinged. Momma wants to dangle it over their heads. Get her into a treatment facility - a proper one, or she presses charges and have the courts force her into one.

"I don't like it, but it seems the better option? Families like ours live in fear of scandals. Cooper's pretty certain they'll agree to what momma wants rather than risk the publicity an arrest will cause. And there's no denying it. Priscilla willingly admitted to what she did, and the principal did find drugs on her on Wednesday. Her family runs a major pharmaceutical. She's got easy access. She was serious when she said she had come to fix me on Wednesday," Blaine finished.

Kurt let the silence linger, because truly, he did not know how to respond to that.

Finn looked up from his laptop as his bedroom door crept open, a smile forming on his face when Kurt peeked around the doorway.

"Hi you," he greeted, reaching over to hit the switch on his wall, flooding his bedroom with light.

It wasn't that late, a little over eleven, but he had just been here in the darkness, surfing the internet aimlessly while he waited for Quinn to get back home from her baby-sitting gig that night.

"You're busy?" Kurt inquired, still standing in the doorway.

"Quite," Finn responded with a trace of humour, "these Buzzfeed videos are _very_ important, you know."

Kurt laughed at that. By the time Finn set aside his laptop, Kurt had closed his door and was now clamouring up on the bed beside him.

"What's up little dude?" he asked when he was beside him.

"You scolded Blaine," Kurt told him, and for a moment Finn froze.

He really had not expected that the Warbler would tell on him, but, did it really matter? He looked down, trying to gauge Kurt's mood and thus how he should tailor his response when he saw that Kurt wasn't annoyed or even upset. He had said it quite normally actually.

"I did," Finn agreed, "I don't think you performing is a good idea."

"Blaine told me that," he confirmed. "We spoke a lot today."

That, Finn knew. Blaine had only left a few minutes after he had gotten home, and that hadn't been until half eight.

"Is he okay?"

"He'll be fine," Kurt responded, although Finn heard a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "Don't distract me though. Why did you tell him you didn't want me to perform, Finn?"

And that, Finn briefly noted, was clear disappointment and hurt in his tone.

It was why the giant teenager had hoped that Blaine would not have told Kurt about their little conversation. But, as he had learnt, things never really went the way people wanted it. He sighed, running his hand through his hair for a few seconds to buy himself some time.

"You won't be happy with me," Finn warned, his lips quirking as Kurt scowled at him. He was entirely too adorable doing that without any of his old snark or bitch-glare. It was kind of like watching a puppy trying to bark for the first time, especially with the way Kurt's hair was flopping in his face and his cheeks still had not lost any of that roundness that he remembered Mercedes and Tina cooing about as they attempted to pinch them.

"Tell me," Kurt demanded, smacking his chest, "let me worry about my reaction."

"Yes sir," Finn quipped before sobering. "Blaine told you the truth. I really don't think you're ready for this Kurt. It's too much too fast. I love the progress you've made, but actually performing again? It seems too much. You've got so much going on already, therapy, physical therapy, your classes, and the fact that you're on the road nearly four hours a day. I just don't want you overwhelmed. Besides, is this even something you want to do, or are you just doing it for Blaine?

"You've never said a word about singing again until all this drama with Blaine started. Kurt, you're the type of person who'd go along with something just to make people happy. I don't want you doing this for Blaine if it's going to hurt you. Blaine's done a lot for you, I won't deny that, but I think this is too much to ask of you."

Finn had not looked at Kurt while he spoke, knowing that he might not have gotten through it all if he did. It was hard to be entirely honest with Kurt at times. The smallest thing could affect him negatively and he didn't want to be responsible for that. He, almost hesitantly, finally looked down at Kurt. Kurt didn't seem upset though - he just seemed sad.

"Everyone keeps trying to protect me," Kurt answered. "Was I that fragile? I can't even remember."

"Kurt?"

The younger teenager shook his head, as if forcibly ridding himself of his thoughts. "Nevermind that," he responded. "I had a similar conversation with Mr. Kentwood."

"Your Lit guy?"

"My Lit guy," he confirmed with a small chuckle. "He asked me if I was doing it for Blaine and if I was doing it out of some sense of duty to him."

"Are you?"

"No Finn," Kurt said with surety, "Blaine may have been the catalyst for this, but Blaine isn't why I'm doing it. I'm doing this because I like singing and I need to stop giving up on the things I love. Every time I hesitate or doubt myself is a victory for Azimo and Karofsky. I am tired of letting them win. I like singing. I like performing and I want to do this because I want to. So please, please don't blame Blaine," he finished.

Finn could only stare down at him for long moments. Kurt was different as he spoke, not the almost child he had grown accustomed to taking care of, the Kurt who just docilely agreed or went along with whatever he was told to do.

"It's hard," he admitted.

"What is?"

Finn took a breath, using it to organise his thoughts before he tried to explain the confusion in his mind. "You're my baby brother Kurt. I've gotten so accustomed to taking care of you, protecting you. I don't want you to get hurt again. That's why I told Blaine to back off. I can't stand to see you so...broken again. I can still remember that day, seeing you like that, so hurt, so afraid. I swore on that day that I would keep you safe from the world."

"Are you planning on protecting me forever?" Kurt asked softly.

"That's the plan," he confirmed. "I love you little dude, and I don't want you hurt ever again. I want the best for you."

Kurt butted his head against Finn's shoulder affectionately for a moment. "I love you too Finnegan," he responded, "and I love you enough to say that you can't put all your focus into protecting me."

"I can try."

Kurt smiled at the stubbornness in his voice. "Finn, listen to me. I understand. This has been hard on all of us. But, please don't try to live solely for me and wrap yourself around me. Please Finn, I know you love me, but, and as much as I wish you could because I love knowing you're here for me, I can't let you do that. I've got to grow up sometime Finn. I needed you, I still need you, but I have to stand up on my own to. I have to find my own way in this life, and while I need you by my side, I don't need you to hold my hand the entire way."

"But what if I want to?"

Kurt chuckled. "You'd make a great dad Finn," he told him softly, snuggling into his side.

"I'm scared Kurt," Finn admitted. "You're changing. Please don't think I haven't seen that. Especially in the last few weeks you've become a lot more confident, more certain and self assured. And I'm so proud of you for that. Hell, from what mom said you put that blonde bimbo in her place so hard her grandchildren will be feeling the burn."

They both laughed at that. "I sense a but," Kurt pointed out when they calmed back down.

"The but is that as much as I am glad you're rediscovering yourself little dude, I can't help but be afraid that you'll be hurt again. You're perfect but that perfection is what led them to hurting to. I can't see you getting hurt again, Kurt."

Kurt closed his eyes, seeking strength. "I don't want to be hurt again," he answered, "but I can't just walk around in bubble wrap. There's always going to be someone out there who doesn't like me. I'm just going to have to deal with that."

"I don't want you to have to deal with that."

"Finn," Kurt breathed, feeling both loved yet slightly annoyed.

"I'll work on it," Finn promised. "It's the best I can do, little bro. I can't just turn of the protectiveness."

"I don't want you to," Kurt corrected, "I just don't want you to make me the focus of your life."

"That's Blaine's role," Finn teased, earning himself a small glare.

"I'll focus on me. You focus on you. He'll focus on him and we'll see where it goes from there, okay?"

"Okay," Finn agreed. "And I'll apologise to Blaine tomorrow."

"Thank you."

He rolled away from Finn then, burrowing into a pillow. "I'm sleeping here tonight," he declared.

"Yes sir," Finn answered, looking down at him with affection.


	10. Chapter 10

It hadn't been a smooth six weeks, Kurt thought, running his hand nervously down the length of his blazer. There had been considerable ups and downs. Blaine had spent a good few days in a sort of daze, going through moments of anger and self-pity that worried Kurt. He rallied through though, surrounded by the love of his friends, family and of course his boyfriend. It didn't hurt that Kurt's very own psychologist takes Blaine as a patient. He's a bit more good-natured about it (much to Kurt's chagrin), but, he occasionally would agree that the sessions at times could be quite draining. It was beneficial, and, now, whenever Kurt searchingly checked the emotions in Blaine's hazel gaze, he was relieved to see that the pain and confusion in their depths were slowly but surely being chipped away. He, of all people, knew that it would not be the end of the matter, and that, in the future, Blaine would perhaps have moments of depression or stagnation, but, he was certain, that in the end, Blaine would be fine.

Things had looked up in some respects as well. The Ladybugs (and boy had Kurt laughed when he learnt that that was the Crawford girls' team name) had integrated smoothly with the removal of Priscilla and her gang. They had done a number on the Ladybugs though, leaving only a team of freshmen and sophomores - the only ones unaware of the levels of Priscilla's crazy and thus had been naively recruited into the team. That first joint meeting had been interesting, the new head, a petite redhead named Katie, immediately demanding to know what the Warblers had done to rid them of the bane that was Priscilla.

It had been an amusing interchange, the girls considerable kinder than their counterparts, and the resulting practises had been quite enjoyable, the only real hick-up being when Phillip tried to ask Katie on a date and a previous quiet and mostly shy freshman named Bianca seemed to grow claws as she snarled that Phillip better stay away from her girlfriend if he knew what was best for him. It had only taken a few seconds for Jeff to make the connection and declare that Kate and Bianca were Crawford's Klaine and should definitely do a duet together as well. Blushing, the girls had agreed to that suggestion.

That led them to today. The End. Judgement Day or whatever else anyone wanted to call it. In about three hours Kurt, Blaine and their friends would take to the stage to end the show. Kurt, was mostly looking forward to it.

"You're quiet," Blaine murmured, raising his head from where it had been languishing against Kurt's shoulder.

"Just thinking about it all," Kurt responded, knocking their heads lightly together. "It's been quite the ride, huh?"

"It sure has been," he agreed.

They were in the practise room, alone. They had had one last group practise half an hour before, but, rather than go explore the different booths that had been set up around the grounds, the pair had decided to relax together and enjoy their privacy. They'd return to the world when their families arrived.

"You're okay though?" Blaine asked, moving so he could run his hand up and down Kurt's arm, pausing to fiddle with the edge of the sling he had finally presented Kurt with the week before. It had been a surprise; one he had spent considerable time working on to transform it into a classy, bejewelled, embroided delight that Kurt would appreciate. And he had; Kurt hadn't gone a day without it since Blaine had first slipped his arm into it.

His arm.

Blaine pressed his hand firmer against the trembling limb, fascinated by the way it had nearly reached the jerking stage of the process. The sling had been gifted barely in time given how Kurt's arm now tended to just spasm and jerk out unexpectedly. Blaine still snickered, recalling the way Kurt had inadvertently spilled the contents of a container out because of his renegade arm one afternoon. All good signs. Blaine thought fondly. He wasn't happy about the pain Kurt felt, which could be crippling some days, but the fact that his nerves were improving? That if he ran a finger firmly down the appendage, Kurt could actually feel it now? That he could wiggle all his fingers now? Those were things that Blaine loved learning and seeing.

Kurt would be fine with time, he knew. And so would he.

"Do you think they planned this?" Kurt asked with a laugh, leaning into Blaine's side as they headed down to the grounds. Their phones had rung in near tandem, alerting them that their respective families had arrived.

"I wouldn't doubt it," Blaine answered, gently steering them aware from a group of teenagers who were not paying attention where they were walking.

"Momma's always on the phone with Carole lately."

It was true. In the aftermath, Blaine's mother, despite his protests, had re-worked her schedule so that she was home. She had shrugged it off, claiming that it was the benefit of being her own boss and that had been the end of it. She was home so much that Blaine eventually switched his status to day-student because, as it turned out, quite enjoyable to have his mom around so much. As a result she had gotten to know both Kurt and his family a lot better, and had formed a friendship with Carole.

As they half expected, Pamela Anderson was indeed with Kurt's family - his parents and Finn - but Kurt cocked his head curiously at a strange, tall, rather handsome man. Before he could even ask Blaine about it, his boyfriend let out a surprised, but joyous whoop before releasing his hold on him abruptly. Kurt did not mind too much, following at a more sedate pace as Blaine tore across the remaining distance, jumping into the man's arms before he had even much time to realise that he was about to be assaulted. The man recovered quickly, and Kurt grinned despite himself as the man easily picked up and spun Blaine around a few times, a grin on his face as well. As he neared Kurt got an inkling for who he was. He had only Blaine's description of his brother to go by, and a rather dated picture Blaine had had in his dorm taken when he had been around ten. But, as he reached them, and allowed his dad to wrap a hand around his waist, he acknowledged that the young adult who had had Blaine on his shoulders had grown up to be quite the refined, gentleman.

"Hi Kurt," Blaine's mom greeted, pecking his cheek briefly before rolling her eyes at her sons' antics. "You're okay sweetie?"

"I'm fine," he returned. "That's Cooper?"

"Yes. Since Devon's trip got extended by a next week, Cooper decided that he would come instead."

"So this is Kurt huh? He's a cutey, Blainers."

Kurt turned, only now seeing that the Anderson brothers had reached his side.

"Don't call me that," Blaine grumbled good-naturedly, but Cooper wasn't at all perturbed by that, extending his hand out for Kurt to shake.

"Nice to meet you Kurt With The Dreamy Eyes and The Cutest Face I've Ever Seen and I'm Going to Marry Him One Day I Swear Hummel."

" _Cooper_!" Blaine protested, blushing and aiming a kick at him.

"Boys," Pamela said herding them to her side. "You promised not to embarrass Blaine, Cooper," she chided, pulling him away. "Now come along. Let's go make sure Samantha sets up the cameras probably. I told Devon I'd tape the entire thing."

"Momma," Blaine half whined, drawing laughs from Kurt and his family, as he trotted after them, giving Kurt a wave of goodbye.

"Dude, she isn't joking," Finn told him, looping his arm around his shoulders. "She really brought her company's PR people to record everything."

Well, Kurt decided, that explained where Blaine got his enthusiasm and occasionally outlandish ideas. Only an Anderson would bring their own media crew to ensure that Blaine's dad didn't miss a thing. Really, wouldn't a few pictures have been sufficient?

He put it out of his mind for now, and instead settled for exploring the festival with his family, knowing that he would be reunited with Blaine by show time.

It was chaos backstage, and Kurt was more than happy to just pull a corner and observe the madness. He was ridiculously glad now that he did not have that much to do. Being the last to perform had its benefits, but the pressure of having to bring the show to a magnificent end had started to set in. The youngest Warblers were nervous for their first ever performance on this scale. The seniors - Blaine included - anxiously wanted to ensure that this performance - their last - would be their greatest ever. And of course, there was him, who was starting to feel nerves as he realised that this indeed was happening. It probably didn't help as well that he had peered out at the crowd and realised that it appeared that everyone in all of Westerville seemed to be here. He had swallowed nervously, and then secreted himself in the corner here.

He managed to smile as a few of the Crawford girls passed him and waved. They were up first, assisted by a few of the Warbler boys as dancers, allowing them to do a routine that was both upbeat and romantic. Kurt snickered as he remembered the looks of chagrin on the Warblers' face. The Crawford girls - probably appropriate for their age bracket - were obsessed with all things Disney and pop. Most of their song selections were covers of the latest musicals and the boys unfortunately had to play a part to fulfil their vision. It was amusing for Kurt to watch seeing that he was thankfully not a part of it.

"Doing okay, Kurt?"

Kurt turned, a bit startled as he had not seen Wes approach. Kurt saw that he bore a slightly concerned expression. Kurt realised that him secreting himself like this perhaps was not the most promising image. He offered him a minutely nervous smile. "I'm okay," he reassured. "Everything's ready?"

"Yeah. The girls are going on in seven minutes. They'll be on for exactly eleven minutes. Blaine's opening is going to come soon after that and then you'll join him."

It never failed to amuse Kurt that, in times of agitation, Wes began very specific with everything.

"Everything will go fine, Wes," he reassured, bumping his chest.

Despite himself, Wes smiled. "Yeah, it will be. You remember the plan though? Nick and Jeff are ready...just in case."

Kurt nodded, relaxing at the reminder. "Thanks Wes. You guys are the best."

"Nah, you're the best," Wes corrected. "If you hadn't agreed to this, who knows what would have happened."

"I'd like to think we'd have found a way."

Kurt smiled as Blaine's voice came from his side, and a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him against him.

"Hello," he whispered, as he felt a kiss pressed to the side of his head.

"Hello to you too," came the hushed response.

"Let the mushiness begin," Wes groaned, but there was nothing but fondness in his eyes. "David's bringing your ear-piece in a few minutes," he continued.

"Okay."

"Now," Wes finished, "I shall warn you if this goes as brilliant as I expect it will, operation 'Get Kurt Into Regionals' shall begin."

Kurt laughed loudly, leaning back into Blaine's embrace. "One thing at a time," he requested.

"The songs we can do," he said, almost wistfully, walking away.

"He's not going to take no for an answer," Blaine warned, turning him in his arms before resting his hands lightly on his hips. "You are okay, right poppet?"

"Yes Sir Worry-wart," he teased.

"Yo, Klaine."

Blaine huffed while Kurt laughed as they turned their heads to where Jeff and Nick were passing by.

"Sup Niff?" he called back, snickering at Nick's surprised face.

"Nice one," Jeff crowed. "We're up next, but from the looks of it, we aren't going to have to run out and save the day, huh?"

"Hopefully not," Kurt retorted, and Nick pulled his best friend away.

Blaine re-focussed on him then, moving up to cradle his face, his thumbs rubbing his cheeks in soothing circles.

"I'm not going to give you any pep talks," he murmured, his voice dropping into that lower register that made Kurt feel tingly inside and loved. "I'm also not going to tell you that you can back out if you want. You know that."

"What are you going to tell me then?" he asked, equally soft, his hand reaching up to rest on Blaine's.

"What I'm going to tell you is that I love you very _very_ much and that I am proud of what you've done so far."

"Thank you," he returned softly, raising his head fractionally in invitation.

Blaine took it, closing the distance between them before kissing him deeply. Kurt mewled into the kiss. He was a bit surprised when Blaine's tongue teased, seeking entrance, and immediately, he let it in, their tongues dueling for long moments before Blaine pulled back, giving him smaller pecks until finally they were separated. He released him and stepped back, swiping his thumb across Kurt's sensitive lips, eliciting a shiver from Kurt, before, with a last smile, he walked away, leaving Kurt standing there, slightly gaze.

The feelings Blaine had evoked in him left him more than relaxed, and in a slight daze. That, he decided, as David approached him with his ear-piece, truly was better than any prep talk he could have been given.

Kurt inhaled deeply, hearing the way his voice shuddered even to his own ears. The world had narrowed down to just him and the stage. He didn't see the concerned looks David and Wes shared behind him, couldn't see Jeff angling himself with a spare micro-phone while on the other side of the stage, Nick stood ready to rush out after Blaine just in case it turned out to be too much for Kurt after all. Kurt saw none of this, nor really registered anything until, despite the distance between them, Blaine's warm, hazel gaze met his, and, all of a sudden, Kurt could breathe again, could recall the warmth and affection Blaine had poured into that kiss.

He could easily read the words from Blaine's eyes. "Just you and me."

Kurt nodded, quick and jerky. What did he need to fear if Blaine would be right beside him the entire time? Nothing else mattered, no one else mattered, and, as the curtain lifted and the murmur of the crowd lulled to silence, Kurt still kept Blaine's gaze, watching as he briefly used his free hand to trace a circle around his heart before pointing it at him. Kurt choked back a laugh before pressing his fingers to his lips before blowing him a kiss. Blaine's cue came and he stepped confidently forward, keeping his eyes locked on Kurt until he turned to the audience to begin.

Kurt looked down briefly, concentrating only on Blaine and his love for him. That was the best way to handle the nerves he was feeling. He wasn't scared. Part of him was excited, waiting to relish his first time back before an audience, but it was tempered by the memories of his past. But, with the added dimension of Blaine's love, the balance was tilted, and he looked up, squaring his shoulders. He could do this. Blain was out there on that stage, waiting for him. His family and friends were out there in the audience as well, reading to cheer him on.

He could do this.

Blaine's introductory refrain lulled into its last lines and gathering every ounce of courage he had within him, Kurt tapped the button to activate his mic, singing in a voice slightly above a whisper, "I really can't stay...".

His voice drifted off after that, and he couldn't help the small giggle that passed his lips as Blaine, still ending the first song, started looking around comically, as if in search of the voice gently intruding. They certainly had not rehearsed that. Kurt added "I've got to go away" with just slightly more volume, as the music started its gradual transition as Blaine, 'finding' him, stood with an expression of awe on his face for the benefit of the audience, but his eyes...his eyes showed the depth of his love and pride in this moment, and so, as the chords of their duet song took precedence, Kurt stepped forward, out of the wings, eyes focussed solely on the male in front of him as he started the verse again.

This time Blaine sang, adding his half of the duet to Kurt's. By the time they reached the end of the first verse, Kurt had reached him, and Blaine had taken his hand into his, lacing and squeezing his fingers to connect them before spinning Kurt around, momentarily giving him a look at the audience before pulling him close, waggling his eyebrows at him playfully as Kurt sung a variety of excuses for why they just simply couldn't be together.

With each line they sung, Kurt found himself growing more and more relaxed, and with it, he released himself, moving further and further away from his boyfriend so that Blaine was not just a crutch for him to get through this, but as much a part of the experience as everything else. And then, before it even really registered to Kurt, their song had come to an end, with them face to face, heads inches apart, their eyes locked. Then, Blaine stepped back, raised Kurt's hand up to his mouth, and for long moments, pressed his lips against it in a sincere caress.

Kurt was actually startled by the burst of screams, shouts and applause that erupted. He flinched, but Blaine immediately grabbed him by the waist and swung him up and around, Kurt laughing out as he struggled to find some sort of balance even as Blaine lowered him enough to kiss him before returning him to the floor, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward to the edge of the stage where Kurt could see that indeed the audience – comprised of students, teachers, family and friends - were on their feet cheering for them, cheering for _him_.

Tears pricked at Kurt's eyes as he looked about the audience for the first time, to his parents and brother in the fifth row. Burt's cap (his fancy one) was clasped in one hand, and Kurt could see, even from here, the wetness around the man's eyes. Carole was openly crying and cheering while Finn...there was an expression of pure pride on his face that caused a single tear to escape from Kurt. He found Mr. Kentwood next; the man bore a satisfied expression, and when their gazes locked, he nodded once, the gesture stating everything, and Kurt's breath hitched. Everyone here was showing their support for what he had done. Even from the wings, Kurt could hear the hollers from the Warblers, and he knew that he would be enveloped by them shortly.

But first, he reminded himself, brushing aside the tear, they had a performance to finish.

"Thank you," he said, his voice a bit lower for all the emotions he was feeling giving a small bow, before turning to Blaine. "I love you," he told him, reaching over to kiss his cheek and ignoring the "awws" and coos that erupted then. "Now bring the show down, huh?"

Blaine nodded, his eyes sparkling as they parted, Kurt running off through the centre curtains, the cue for the Warblers to launch into the second song from their Sectionals routine. They were as great as he remembered, better even, he thought as he returned to the wings watching them, marvelling at the fact that he was now technically one of them. They danced and flipped, twisted and worked the audience into an even greater frenzy. They transitioned smoothly from that to the final performance.

The Crawford girls had returned to the wings, standing on the other side, waiting to enter and finish their grand number. He gave them a thumb up and they waved in return. They graceful danced out onto the stage, effortlessly integrating into the final routine. They did look good together, Kurt allowed, and there was a certain air of regalness to their performance, interspaced with enough modernity to appeal to all aspects of the crowd. Towards the end of the number, in a representation of the freedom that came with the holiday, the number grew less coordinated, more free form.

It wasn't planned, but Kurt really was not surprised when Andrew spun his way over to the wing and held out a hand to him.

Kurt didn't even hesitate. Pausing only to re-activate his mic, he took his hand, and allowed himself to be pulled back out and be spun around. He was traded from partner to partner, sometimes just flailing, other times grinding between two people, and for some moments, just by himself while singing along. Eventually found himself in Blaine's range, and, the older teenager, to his credit, did not seem the least bit surprised as he saw him. He just reached out, pulled Kurt firmly to him and started to lead them in a quick trot for the remainder of the dance.

As per the girls' request, a series of fireworks erupted when finally, they drew the number to a close, but Kurt did not pay them the slightest of details. He was focussed on the person whose arms he was in, the slightly sweaty body that was pressed to him as Blaine butted their heads together before briefly, chastely, kissing him. They did not have privacy for long as the other dancers, swamped around them in a group hug, somehow ending with Kurt seated on Andrew and Thad's shoulders.

If, someone had asked him months ago if he could ever seen himself on a stage again, far less celebrating the end of a brilliant performance like this, he would have laughed and called them delusional. But now, finally set back onto his feet and once again safely pressed against Blaine's side, he couldn't imagine his night, or his life, going any other way.


End file.
